Transcendental (Working Title) Completed First Draft Revising Rewriting Editing

From Hurting to Healing

I knew Michael was going to school today for the first time since the incident that had almost ended his life. I made the mental excuse to myself that I was trying to make sure I was prepared to take care of everything for Michael. I had been sitting outside Michaels house for almost an hour and it wasn't even 5 AM yet.

I had been the one been taking him to all his Doctor appointments, therapy sessions, and his bandage changes whenever I was with him. But the truth was, I was looking forward to life getting back to its normal routine finally, even if it was going to be far from normal until Michael was 100%, and that was going to be a long road. No one had really known just how extensive the damage had been. In fact, the physician had commented that my prevention of the final tackle likely had saved Michaels life. My stomach turned every time that occurred to me. What if he hadn't gotten to them in time. I couldn't let myself dwell on that because it made me want to wrap Michael in cotton and keep him safely locked away so no one could ever hurt him again.

I had really been thrown off by everything going on, and I had to admit that my inability to adjust to new situations was showing. I had been angry and more short tempered than usual with everyone. Everyone was ready for Michael to be back and praying that it settled the errant devil they were all tired of having to deal with

I had seen Michaels light come on and had waited impatiently for some time to pass before knocking on the door. Michael answered the door blinking sleepily at me. "Your early... Like... Real early man."

I shuffled my feet uncomfortably for a moment or two then shrugged. "Wasn't sure how much help you would need this morning".

I gave Michael an up down, it still made me uncomfortable seeing Michael in such a condition, though he was vastly improved from what he had been those first couple weeks, he still moved slowly and painfully, could not be on his feet for long periods, was still having to be bandaged head to toe , had to have timed elevations, therapies and medications. And there were still discolorations left from the vast massive bruising that had almost taken his life. He moved back from the door and I stepped in.

Michael walked slowly and stiffly back to his room, I watched him like a hawk, I remembered from the hospital that mornings were the worst, Michael had a hard time getting up and moving around, every morning was filled with pain and stretching now.

And pills... "Have you um... " Michael shook his head and pointed to the kitchen before I even had the sentence finished. I finished walking Michael back to his room, Michael slowly lowered himself back down onto the bed, his face a mask of discomfort.

"I'll be back with your meds man." I returned with Michaels medications and the remaining ones packaged for the day.

Michael wasn't stretching but was instead laying back down on his side, curled away from the door, I stopped and assessed. It could be anything at this point. Michaels mother was practically non present. My own mother had even made some uncharacteristically hostile comments about the woman who used to be her friend. But Michaels mom had been different ever since Michaels father had passed away over a year ago. Hell, it could be that he was missing his dad, he could be upset that his mom didn't seem to care that he was struggling to recover from a life threatening injury. So honestly, with everything Michael had to deal with, anyone would have a hard time getting out of bed.

I stood at the doorway, awkwardly holding the juice and pills, wanting to do something but unsure what. So I improvised and just went with my gut like I usually did.

I sat the juice and pills down on the dresser and sat down on the bed beside him

"What's wrong?" I asked him quietly.