𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 ↣ 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉

two - ready to run

[suffering feels religious
if it's done right]

_________________________________

When I came to, I had to consider the option that every event from the past hour was a dream. Losing Lizzie, meeting the boys, all of it.

How could it be real? And if it was, how could my best friend be gone?

I had no more time to think, though, because a doctor walked into the room. I looked up at her and smiled. I had met this doctor many times over the course of my life.

Being in the foster care system did that to me. A lot of other kids, too.

"How are you feeling, Kenni?" she asked. I flinched at the mention of the name I no longer went by.

I pulled the oxygen mask away from my face. "Um, good," I started, "and it's Mickey, please."

"Mickey," she repeated apologetically. "How's your head?" The doctor shined her flashlight into my eyes, and then pressed her stethoscope to my chest. "Your head?" she repeated when I didn't answer.

"Fine," I said. "I didn't eat a good dinner last night or breakfast this morning. I'm sure that's all it is," I mumbled.

"I heard about the accident. I'm sorry about your friend."

I paused and considered what she said. It wasn't often that people felt sorry about anything that I went through. They didn't usually care about how I felt, either.

"Yeah," I whispered sadly.

"Should I send Sasha down?" the doctor asked. "I'm sure she'll want to check out your amputation site."

I considered that too.

My left leg was amputated seven months ago, right above the knee. The accident I lost it in was my fault.

Everything was my fault.

"No, she's probably busy and I don't want to bother her," I mumbled.

"Okay, hun," the doctor said softly. She brushed my hair out of my face. "The boys that came in with you are still in the waiting room."

"They didn't leave?" I asked.

"They didn't leave," the doctor repeated. "I'll go grab them, alright? You just wait here and try not to get into trouble. And keep your oxygen mask on, please." The doctor left the room before I could argue that she didn't need to get the boys.

Why did they stay? Why did they care at all?

And why did they have accents?

I didn't have a whole lot of time to ponder it, though, because the five boys from earlier were walking into my hospital room. Louis, Liam, Zayn, Harry, and Niall.

Oh god, Niall. Why are our life stories so similar?

I pulled the oxygen mask off of my face again and hung it back in its place.

"Are you okay?" Louis asked.

"Yeah, I'm good," I said. I tugged the corners of my mouth up into a smile. It wasn't a convincing one by any means, but Louis smiled back at me anyway.