Strength Behind Recovery (May Rewrite)

A Helping Hand

Months had passed now, still recovering, emotionally too, the love was burning. This was like a fire ball to my heart and I still lived. I never knew how much love could impact a single soul. How love could change a person's actions within mere seconds. The choice I made because of love has left me here, left me in pain, utter torture. With every bone broken how could I really live again?

Hopefully Isabelle will help me through every moment and every second of our life long struggle together. The struggle of my physical inability. If she truly loved me, if she really did cared, she would take care of me. She would be the wheels to my chair. The girl who I could never repay.

Slowly rehabilitation took place, I regained what I had lost and fixed the struggles I still live with. Ultimately I would stay broken, maybe physically, but never emotionally. I knew this because I had Isabelle, a sweet, caring, a girl with unbelievably the most heart ever, and forever. Isabelle was one of the only girls to ever take charge of my mistakes, and complete me when I only have half a body. In all these thoughts I still lived, love keeps me alive every single moment I'm dying. Dying in moments without Isabelle.

"Isabelle, baby?" I asked with a rather annoyed voice.

"Yes, William?"

"Can you help me." I was having trouble getting out of my living room chair.

"Yes, William. Of course."

As she clenched my wrist, I used my strength against her and pull her onto me. She let out a laugh and we laid there peacefully. Her head on my shoulder and body next to mine, I pulled her closer. I kissed her forehead and we fell asleep in each other's arms. I would drop everything for Isabelle, the best part was I knew she would drop everything for me too.