Half a man

2- Lizzie

Tom was woken up by the awkward feeling that someone was in the room. He had fallen asleep on his couch last night, which was not really unusual these days. He shifted and turned, slowly opened his eyes and jerked up straight. He was expecting his mother, maybe one of his brothers, but Lizzie?!

-- How did you get in, Tom asked in a hoarse voice.

He pulled up the blanket to his neck to hide his body. He had stripped down naked yesterday before slouching in the couch. He avoided looking at Lizzie but he could feel her disgusted stare on him. Why was she here?

-- Your Mum gave me the keys, she said blankly. Now get up. We are going somewhere.

-- I don't want to go out, he grumbled.

-- You don't have a choice, she replied annoyed. Get up!

-- No.

-- I'm not leaving without you.

He glanced at her and found her glaring at him with her arms cross on her chest. The same look of disgust on her face she has everytime she looks at him.

-- I'm not wearing anything, he mumbled.

She rolled her eyes and went to his bedroom. He called her out because he didn't wanted her to go in there, it was private! But she did anyway and came back with a pair of clean underwears that she threw at his face.

-- Now get up.

By the time he did she was in the kitchen looking for a clean glass among the dirty plates and boxes of delivered food.

-- This is gross, Tom, she said.

-- Just leave it.

-- Oh I don't plan on cleaning your shit. But you should, she said with that scrunch of her nose.

-- Why are you here, he barked because he couldn't stand her gaze anymore. If I disgust you, just get out!

She slammed her hand on the counter and stared right at him. He didn't looked away. He was all too aware his stump was exposed but maybe it would scare her off.

-- Just put some clothes on please, she said trying to keep her voice calm. I'm taking you somewhere.

-- I don't want to go, he repeated.

-- And I already told you-

-- Why does everyone think they can order me around, he bursted out. I'm not a fucking child!

-- Then stop acting like one and put some damn clothes on!

Tom reluctantly got dressed. Fighting against her was too tiring and he didn't had the energy. He picked up the first clothes he found which resulted in a faded orange t-shirt and some dark purple sweatpants. When he came back to the kitchen, Lizzie was waiting for him with a glass of water. She raise an eyebrow at the sight of his outfit but he couldn't care less. She shoved some meds in his hand, that he swallowed without checking if they were the one he was supposed to take. She handed him the glass and he drank down the water. Then she gave him some biscuits.

-- I couldn't find anything better for breakfast. When was the last time you did some groceries?

He didn't bother answering. She probably already knew he hadn't since he came back from the hospital about a month ago. She sighed and urged him to eat quickly because they were getting late. Ten minutes later they were in her car, driving God knows where to, barely talking to each other. They drove for about half an hour and arrived to the hospital.

-- Why are you taking me here, Tom growled. I'm done with the hospital shit.

-- No you're not. Come on.

She got out of the car and walked around it to open his door.

-- Why are we here, he asked again.

-- Please Tom, she sighed exasperated, you're going to be late.

-- Late for what?!

-- If I tell you now you're never going to get off this car.

-- Yeah, cause obviously now I will.

-- Don't make me drag you, she warned.

-- Did my Mum asked you to drive me here, Tom asked.

He couldn't understand why she was getting involved with him like this.

-- No, she replied. She doesn't know, she just gave me a spare key. Come on, Tom.

-- Then why? What do you want?

-- I want for you to get better, you dumbass, she shouted.

He was stunned for a second, but then slouched back in his seat.

-- I can't get better, Tom grumbled.

-- Yes you can.

-- Yeah, he snorted, 'cause obviously you know better.

-- That's what the doctors said. That you would handle this and-

-- Bullshit! My arm is not going to grow back!

-- Of course not-

-- And you have no idea what it's like to be in pain every fuching second of the day, he barked at her face.

He realized he was standing up before the door, their nose inches from each other. The sudden move had sent a surge of pain in his body, making him dizzy. He stepped back and saw her softening.

-- You're right, I can't imagine what it's like, she said. But some people can. If you would just come with me...please.

Tom felt suddenly so tired he didn't had the strength to fight anymore. When she took his hand and led him inside the building, he didn't resist. She dragged him to a little room with wide windows opening to a garden. Four other people were there, sitting in circle in the middle of the room. One of them stood up and walked to greet them.

-- Melissa, hi! And you must be Tom? I'm Dan.

Tom nodded. He was starting to understand where he was.

-- Your friend here told me you were struggling with the loss of your arm. I am glad you finally decided to come. I hope this group talk will help you. Just go ahead and take a seat. Melissa?

-- I'm not staying today, she smiled. Tom, I'll wait for you in the car okay?

Tom stared at her, trying to process what he was hearing. Had she been attending this sessions? But what for? She put her hand on his right arm and he crossed her eyes.

-- Okay?

He nodded and for the first time in ages, he felt something else than pain and self hatred. It felt a little warm. He wasn't sure what it was, though.

Tom didn't spoke during the whole hour of the group talk. His mood had dropped down to its usual painful darkest level the second Lizzie had left the room. What was the point? He didn't spoke the next day neither, or any other day Lizzy dragged him there for the following week.

But sometimes, he listened.

Dan was a med school student interning at the hospital and most importantly he was amputated of his right foot at the age of 17 after a motorcycle accident. He was hosting the sessions as an assignment but his condition made it feel like he belonged here. Tom was more inclined to listen to him than to some tightass therapeut he met during his stay at the hospital.

Anyway, listening to people congratulating each other for doing things that used to be normal did not exactly made Tom feel better. If this was the life he was supposed to live now, getting excited for putting on his own shirt by himself, he didn't wanted it.