Disabled?

I can't breathe. I literally can't breathe! Someone, get me an interpreter because I don't quite understand what this doctor is talking about.

I am partially disabled. Huh? What did I do? I have heard there is a creator of the universe. An almighty. But why, hmm? Why does he always find pleasure in watching me live a miserable life like an episode after an episode?

I got chocolate thrown on me, I had gotten physically assaulted, and I got hit by a car (which was totally my fault), but still? Now that I decided to help myself earn money and go to college, I can't use my right hand? The most important one? Is this a joke or some sort of prank?

Damn, almighty, this is 100- nil. This game of life isn't fair and I want you to please, please take it away from me.

'Take me away you bastard!' I cry out this time, startling both Jonathan's dad, my mom and the doctor.

'I'm sorry,' I lowered my head and rested my head back on the pillow, sighing. No wonder I wasn't able to raise it when I wanted to.

'Would she be able to use her hand ever again?' Declan asks.

The doctor is hesitant to answer that question and from there, we all know what the answer is. Next thing, my Mom's wails erupt, seeping into my ears and I wince at how fucking sensitive I have become since I woke up from my accident.

'Please stop that, Mother,' I say in a really low voice.

'What can you do to help her? Can you suggest any form of treatment? Surgery or something? Do anything. I don't care about the cost, just do anything. I don't want her to have any issues with her body!' Declan says calmly and my mom pauses to stare at him with a dreamy look in her eyes, like he's her entire world. Or some kind of expensive artefact.

'I understand Mr Hill. Since it's not a major damage. I can recommend a series of treatment plans for her, but then, I will prescribe some drugs for her head. She hit her head pretty hard so there may be some kind of minor changes in her behaviour or how her mind works sometimes. But of course, it's temporary. That would be till her head heals,' the doctor blabbered on, but the only thing my mind can focus on is the changes part.

Am I abnormal now? Changes, how?

'Changes?' Mr Hill raises his brows. 'What do you mean... changes?'

The doctor exhales deeply and I just lie there, unable to move or talk. All I can think of is how the hell I'm supposed to live without my other hand.

'She might act weird, but like I said, symptoms may vary from person to person. I can assure you, she is resilient and would probably pass through this,' he looks at me with a small smile. A smile that looks like a pitiful one.

Shit. He has seen it. My scars...

'She would. After all, my Finnie is a strong little doll, is that not right?' She squeezes my palms softly and I nod, my lips pressed to a thin line of a fake smile.

Finnie. It's been forever since I last heard that from her. It makes my heart skip a bit, the childhood memories of it coursing through my head and I wince because it hurts. I don't know exactly what hurts, but I know something hurts. My heart or my head. I can't say.

After a while of not getting any response from me, she answers her question herself.

'Yes, she's a strong girl. The one I raised her to be,' she says.

'Well then if it is not going to be brutal, or cause any damages, we can as well leave it and see how it goes,' Mr Hill says. 'But, she's my daughter and I don't want her getting hurt. No child of mine gets hurt—'

'Can I just,' I sigh, 'is it possible for you to take these,' I say, referring to the series of needles attached to the back of my palm. 'I want fresh air. Just to,' I exhale again, 'to clear my head,' I say.

'But your brain is still disoriented and you won't be able to walk properly. You will feel dizzy,' the doctor says.

'Do you really want to go outside?' Mr Hill makes to touch me, but I unconsciously move my hand, not wanting any form of... whatever this is right now.

'Yes,' I answer.

'Well, you heard that, doctor. She wants to clear her head. Do anything about it,' he says.

The doctor looks conflicted. Confused. Annoyed. Then his eyes brighten.

'Of course, we can do something about it. She would be in a wheelchair, then she doesn't have to walk and she can clear her head,' the doctor claps.

Mr Hill brings his phone out and calls for Jonathan. They argue for some minutes before he finally ends the call, looking at me.

'He will be here in two minutes,' he smiles, returning his phone to his pocket and continues, 'It is going to be a perfect opportunity for you two to bond. You both go to the same school, right? You must know each other well.'

Of course, we know each other well right? So much that I wrote a letter to him as the owner of our school about the bullying I got firsthand from his son. He never responded. Now my bully would soon be my stepbrother.

'Of course,' I say.

Jonathan appeared a few minutes later with a wheelchair, put me on it and pushes it till we got to the garden. Then he stops and puts either of his hands on the armrest of it, caging me in my seat.

'Since you're much of a bitch and a crook, why don't we tell our parents that we're together, huh?'