The Artist (Zayn Malik) AU

Chapter 1

Tears rolled down my eyes as I replayed all the bitter memories that my life gave me. I laid on the cold hospital bed, with the smell of ointments healing my amputated right hand,  the scent cocooning me. I stared at the wall painted grey and a dull blue, which was now the state of my mind.

I looked at my mother who served me a cup of coffee with her hands. Her forehead carried a deep scar that hid behind her blonde bangs. Her eyes, too, held a similar grief and pain, remembering the past that took away her husband. Her wrinkles became more prominent as looked at me in an unreadable expression.

It's been a month since I've been outside this room, since I've seen proper sunlight, and birds flying free in the morning sky, rather than watching them look at me with pity from the hospital window.

The worst part was when the people from my school visited me. They'd give me some flowers and fruits with faces showing nothing but sympathy. I couldn't stand it. Even my mother who had a heart of steel during our worst times, slowly began shrinking. She was emotional, sensitive and talked to no one. 

I feel it's probably because, he'd died while arguing with Mum...

I actioned with my left hand to stop serving me coffee. Because I knew that if I'd start talking, I'd burst into tears. I switched my attention to the doctor who'd been curing me from the past month, who came quickly with two nurses escorting him. 

He was Dr. Fredman, he knew my father well. He smiled at me, "Good morning, Kate!" The man in his late forties spoke. I gave a strange smile as my lips were quivering on the verge of tears.

"How are you feeling today?" He asked, maintaining his positive tone, while he checked my pulse and heartbeat, a thing which he did regularly.

"Fine..' I managed to speak out. "Well I have some great news for you... you're getting discharged today..." He smiles again. I looked at him again with a vague smile on my face which wasn't even real. Though I hated this hospital, I didn't want to go home, where I'd have to live in, a few, but great memories, of my father.

"But you'll have to take rest... don't take in much pressure, alright? Take it easy.." He pats on my shoulder, then looks at my mother and then leaves the room.

Great.....

.....

I carried my hand bag on my left hand and placed it on the floor, as I reached my house which was empty for many days. Mum took my bag and went upstairs to place it in my room. I went over to the kitchen to pick up a packet of crisps. I took it , again, with my left hand, and went over to the living room to watch some television.

I searched for the remote to switch on the television. I stopped myself as soon as I found it. I'd absent- mindedly reached out my right arm to take the remote. The fact of not having a hand, a right hand, was still not a part of my life. I still had to accept it. And that's the exact reason why I hated it when people gave sympathetic looks.

I placed the packet of crisps on the coffee table, sighing and then laughing out loudly, as I sat on the sofa. I still hadn't switched on the television. I sat there, cackling like a hyena at my fate, which gradually turned into a desparate wail.

Tears were pouring down my eyes.. it was burning as the tears touched the eyelids. I buried my head in my lap, sobbing heavily. I could hear footsteps coming down from the stairs. It was Mum, and she knew exactly what I was crying for.

She came and sat next to me rubbing my back ever so soothingly. "Don't cry, love... everything's going to be alright.." She said. I moved away from her touch and looked at her with eyes full of woe. 

I nodded slowly and ran upto my room, slamming the door. I walked backwards and landed flat of my bed, wailing. I realised that every task I did wasn't going to be the same anymore... and I'll be doing it with one less hand. I couldn't write, or type, or do anything.. I was useless.

I looked at my nearly healed hand with disgust. I crawled up to the top of my bed, covering myself with a month- old blanket. I forced myself to sleep after all those troubled nights I had of pain.

My life had suddenly taken a deep plunge into darkness..

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Hey! Hope you enjoyed this chapter of "The Artist" Please do keep supporting me! Don't forget to comment and vote on this story! 

Here's the picture of Kate i.e, Chloe Grace Moretz.. I absolutely love her! 

PS- *excuse the typos*