Novel & Cerita Female Leg Amputee Fiction Stories

"You really want to know?" "Yes." "It's not a pretty or happy story." Her gaze finally met his. "My dad went through an experience similar to yours. He was in a tank that rolled over an IED. He lived, but the left side of his body was heavily damaged. He lost his leg below the knee and his arm." "Your dad was crippled?"

He was so thin that one as old as the priest she had just met could easily count his ribs without the aid of any lens. His lens and pupils were replaced with a plain milky colour with irritating discharges staining his eyes lashes. He had an amputated arm and leg. Right hand and left respectively he coughed while saying these words. There wasn't any plate nor crutches to support his begging ordeal. He was just there in an irritating position on the floor. Dale's tears flowed down her cheeks. This time she didn't sob. This time she wasn't raped. This time a loved one wasn't killed. Neither was she beaten.

He reported and then gave me a document which I think is the results of the victims. I took it and opened it to look through it. I saw a familiar name and my eyes narrowed in contemplation, “Joseph Kim?” I tilt my head to look at the project Supervisor. He nodded, then his eyes turned red, “They said his leg will be amputated.” I closed my eyes in contemplation. My aura was so chilly and it was obvious I was in a really bad mood. Though no one died, three of them won't be able to work on the cure as one will have his leg amputated, another person’s left eye has a deep injury where we still don't know what was going on and the third person’s left wrist was cut off.

“You think you can run with your half-leg? You’re lucky you can even walk fast with that limp, and you think you can outrun us?” Their laughter rings in my ears, harsh and grating. Punks. Yeah, I could’ve outrun them if not for this damn leg. The accident left it so messed up that I can’t even walk straight. Surgery was out of the question—I couldn’t afford it. So now, I’m stuck limping around like a crippled dog. The memory of that night stabs at my heart, a sharp reminder of everything I’ve lost. I wouldn’t be in this situation if I’d just won that damn race.

“Mr. Dylan, after seeing the plates and the exams, we made the decision that it is not convenient to operate. The nerve is almost dead, and you would only have a 25% chance that you will be able to walk, also if you have surgery, you may risk completely killing the nerve that connects to the bladder and there may be a possibility that you will not be able to have never have sex again... The words echoed in my head. Helen grabbed my shoulders trying to comfort me, but I pushed them away and wheeled into the elevator, no longer listening to anyone around me. I had been trying for years to regain mobility in my legs, and every time the doctors saw me, they just said they wouldn't risk it, but w

"Ah. I could have done it myself." "If you’d waited it could’ve gotten worse." She raised her head, words tumbling out of her defensively. When a skeptical smirk tugged at his mouth, she rushed to defend herself. "A friend of mine got her hand amputated because she waited too long. It was scary." June lied through her teeth. Deep laughter rumbled through his chest, filling the space. When she shot him a glare, he cleared his throat. "I see," he said, but it was clear he didn’t buy her story.

Natalie asked, still smiling. “Yes, I am. I don’t usually read romance novels, but your thriller had me hooked until the end.” Natalie chuckled softly. “It’s nice to meet a fan.” “But what happened to you? In your interviews, you didn’t use a wheelchair,” Luke asked. “I had an accident, and my leg was paralyzed. The doctors said it would take a miracle for me to walk again. I stopped writing because I feel like my life is over.” “Who told you your life is over? Just because you can’t walk doesn’t mean your career is over. You don’t need to walk to write. You can do it from the comfort of your home.”

Jake, with his robust frame, was a force of nature, his presence a constant, reassuring thrum at the edge of her awareness. Lila's cybernetic limb moved seamlessly with her organic form, a testament to her resilience and adaptability. The once foreign appendage now felt like an extension of her very being, no longer a symbol of loss but of strength. She reveled in the sensation, embracing the harmony between flesh and metal.

Andini clenched her fists on the bed then raised her hand with the IV tube to slap Jian's face, but Jian quickly held it back and gripped Andini's finger tightly. "Does Madam want to slap me?" asked Jian coldly and intimidatingly. Andini's body was shaking and full of anger, then Jian's lips smiled faintly and opened the blanket that belonged to Andini's body. The man laughed when he saw Andini's face turn pale as she stared at her two amputated legs. "Where are my legs!!" shouted Andini emotionally. "Where are my legs! I don't want to be disabled! I don't want to be disabled!"

he fidgets with our intertwined fingers, and I realize I have never seen him this worried—so anxious—whatever he’s about to tell me, it’s something that’s breaking him apart from the inside. I scoot closer and urge him on. “What is it?” He takes another deep breath, his eyes locking with mine as if seeking strength. “The explosion damaged my knee. I don’t think I’ll ever walk again. Not like a normal person at least. And even if I do manage to get up on my feet, it will only be with the help of a cane or something, but that’s also if I manage to survive the wheelchair. A cane is the best progress I can make and let’s not bullshit ourselves, it might take years for even that to happen.”