A Different Path

Chapter 38 - Walter

Criticism spot! :)

Crutchie's POV

When I woke up, Jack was already gone. I assumed I somehow slept through the bell, and I sat up, rubbing my eyes. I stretched a little, but was distracted when there was a knock at the door. I gathered my strength and grabbed my crutch, walking to the door as quickly as I could. I opened it to see Race, and he smiled at me, seeming surprised I had come to the door rather than telling him to come in.

"Morning!" He said, and I moved aside to let him in. He walked in and we both went to sit on the bed, and I started to prepare myself to try moving my hand. "Same as yesterday, alright?" I nodded, smiling.

I went through the same routine as always, but to my surprise, I was nearly able to put my hand in a fist entirely. I looked up at Race in disbelief, seeing that he was smiling.

"I told you that you're getting better!" He said, and I smiled back at him.

"I had no idea I could move it that far," I relaxed my hands, hoping that he'd forget about making me open it.

"Take a second, then try opening them," he immediately said, making my chest feel tight as I knew it wouldn't be nearly as successful. I took a breath and did as he said, and rather than at least getting it as far as yesterday, I barely moved it one bit. "Wait, have you started?" Race asked, and I slowly nodded. "That's okay, it takes time." He tried reassuing me, but it didn't work.

"Where's Jack?" I asked, wanting nothing more than to at least see him before they had to go.

"No idea," Race answered, making my heart drop. "I'm sure I'll see him at the square, I'll tell him to stop by before he heads out, okay?" I nodded, and Race got up. 

"He should've been here when I woke up, though," I said, making Race stop and turn back to me.

"It's alright, maybe he had to meet Medda for somethin' and just didn't want to wake you when he got up." I looked back down at my hands, knowing deep down that something was wrong. "I'll see you later," Race left the room, and I was back to being alone with my thoughts.

I waited and waited for Jack to stop and see me on his way out, but he never did, only making me more worried. Instead of dwelling on it, though, I kept assuring myself that he was okay and was with Medda, as Race had said. I worked on walking for most of the day, finally growing too exhausted to keep trying. Because of how tired I was, I laid down, deciding to pass the time by sleeping.

I woke up from the louder fellas getting back as I usually did, part of me hoping that Jack would somehow be in bed when I turned over. He wasn't, of course, and all I could do was continue to sit and wait. I then suddenly thought about how I was basically completely unable to open my hand today, dreading how Jack might react. I looked down at my left hand, feeling unimaginable anger as I did. 

Before I knew it I was ripping the wrap off my hand, crying from the pain as I wasn't being gentle at all.  I threw it on the floor, staring at my hand for a moment and breathing heavily. I tried to open it, but yet again it barely moved, only making me angrier. I then used my right hand to force my left hand open completely, causing me to scream from just how painful it was. I was no longer simply crying from pain, I was having a full-blown panic attack, letting go of my hand.

I sat there for a long, long time as I sobbed, my hand feeling as though it was on fire. I was praying that Jack would get home any minute, but as it grew darker, I began to worry he wouldn't be home at all tonight. 

I had finally calmed all the way down by midnight, my eyelids feeling heavy. I refused to sleep, though, not wanting to miss Jack. There was a knock at the door, and my heart dropped as I knew it wouldn't be Jack, since he wouldn't knock.