Don't Help Me

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It had been three weeks. Donnie helped me, but I could tell everything he did was... wrong to him. I could tell. It was as if he hated the help. It didn't take long for me to get fed up.

He was helping me to my feet.

"Stop it." I whispered.

"What?" He replied.

"Stop it, just stop it! I know you hate me! Okay? And I understand! Just leave me alone! It's bad enough that you hate me, but you're just making it worse by helping me! Leave me alone!" I scream it, then push him away with my good arm. "It's bad enough that you hate me! Just don't help me! I'm not useless! I may be blind, but it hurts too much for you to help me! It reminds me of... I can't believe I... Argh!" I had that feeling again. I wanted- needed- to cry, but tears stayed far away.

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