island ☆ g.d.

29. peace out

Y/n POV:
"Wait, what? I'm sorry, you told me that I would never be able to walk again." I jump up from my bed only to fall down again from lack of balance.

"That was before we found a new way to go at your situation." Dr. Avery's voice pours through the phone.

"And that is..."

"Well, it's just a clinical trial, but we think that you might be the best candidate for it. Originally, we were going to use a basic prosthetic that would attach to the skin of your leg. After the damage done to it, we didn't think that there was anything that we could do, until one of the doctors mentioned the idea that I'm bringing to you. Is that okay?"

"Yes, go on." I furrow my eyebrows.

"We want to go on through the bottom of your amputation and insert a part of your prosthetic so that it attaches directly to your bone. Because of the condition of your leg now, we can't use the common metal leg because of the risk of infection. S-"

"-Does that mean I cant get it?" I place my palm over my forehead, my pinky and thumb touching my temples.

"No, it does not. As an alternative, we have made a silicone leg that can attach to the prosthetic on your bone. It doubles as looking almost the same as a real leg and it removes a portion of the pressure that you have on it at the moment. Now you would have to get this surgery soon because there are many people that want a chance like this, but we suggested you. Take some time to decide, sleep on it-"

"Yes. I'll do it." I cut him off for the second time without even thinking. I need this. I need something good to happen without a problem coming with it.

"Alright. When can you be in Los Angeles for the surgery?"

And there's our problem.

"Next week." Now all I have to do is find a way to get there.

"Okay, so it's settled?" If only he knew that I most likely won't be there. I'm getting myself into something bad if I don't make it there.

"It's settled."

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"I don't know what to do. I have no idea if I can even make it to the surgery. I can't walk or drive, and there's no way my mom's taking me. What do I do?" Nicole's face looks back at me through the screen of my phone.

"I really wish I could help you here, I— oh my god." Her eyes widen. She stands up, running her hands through her hair.

"Did I do something?" I laugh. "What's wrong?"

"I'm flying to Philly for a shoot tomorrow. I can get it done, rent a car, pick you up, and drive you to LA."

"Are you joking?" She shakes her head in response.

"Nicole, I- what? Is this actually happening?" Now I'm the one running my hands through my hair.

"I guess it is." Nicole stands up again, her smile growing. "Let me pack up now, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm actually going to get the surgery. Thank you so much, ohmygod I cant believe this."

"I love you so much, holy crap uh... I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You will. Love you, bye" with that the FaceTime call that will change my life ends.

Nobody ever told me that I would walk again. It was always "your leg is too damaged." I was told I had a 2 percent chance at even taking a step at all.

Dr. Avery is giving me that 2 percent. He's giving me the chance to walk again. Nicole is helping me get to that.

It's actually going to happen. I'm going to walk.

The realization hit me.

Dear God.

I'm going to have to get past my mother.

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"Hey, um, my doctors appointment was moved until tomorrow." My voice is already shaky despite my attempts to smooth it out.

"You told me it was today." The voice I hate most replies. My face turns red with fear.

"I-I know, but I just got a call from my doctor and they told me that it was moved because of an emergency at the hospital." I look down to the floor as I speak.

"Sure. Sure there is," just the sound of her voice tells me that she knows she's intimidating me.

She knows that she can scare me with just one word.

"No." 

Bingo.

"No what?"

"No you're not going to the appointment tomorrow."

"What's the reason this time?" My lip quivers, but I make my voice stronger. I can't sound weak. Not now.

"Because," she stands up, forcing her open palm against my cheek, "you had other plans."

Her eyes turn dark before she hits me again.

I wheel into my room as fast as I can, locking the door. A tear runs down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away.

Not before long, my mother's heavy footsteps echo through the house as she makes her way upstairs. With every step, my heart beats faster.

"You shouldn't have done that," my mom laughs from the other side of the door. When I get in here, you're really getting hurt."

I touch my cheek, red from the slap that she just gave me. I've been dealing with this all my life.

"Really? This is child abuse. You don't know how much I should have done that."

I take panicky breaths as I shove all of my clothes into a suitcase.

My mother starts breaking the door down.

I panic more.

The zipper catches on the suitcase.

My door cracks.

I close my suitcase and open my window.

The door cracks more, leaving a fist-sized hole.

I panic more.

I knot my sheets together and tie them to my bed.

I throw my wheelchair and suitcase out the window.

I climb out.

My door breaks open.

I wheel away.

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