I hobbled up the ramp and into my new house. I fell down on my bed and curled up in a ball, turning on all the lights in the room. I pulled out my laptop and started typing a short story, more of like a fanfiction. In an hour, when it was done and ready to be published online over the course of weeks, I started on the next one. By the time my mom came into my room to check on me, my eyes were glassy and red-rimmed, and I was finishing up my sixth fifty-eight page long fanfiction.

"Sweetie, are you okay? How did it go before?"

I wiped my eyes. "It was fine. I met some kids who tried to get me to join their snowball fight. I guess they didn't notice my crutches. It just made me feel all self-pitying and worthless again, and I got rather snarky. At least I don't have to go to school with them." Mom started fidgeting. "Is there something you need to tell me?" I asked.

"Yes, actually. Since you've become a little more independent, we've signed you up for school. You can use your wheelchair or your braces and crutches, but you cannot use your crutches by themselves. You're actually a little ahead of your grade, so you should have no trouble in your studies."

I started trembling at the thought of being trapped in that crowded hellhole and being forced out of my room, away from my bed, away from my laptop and my writing, away from my books, away from everything I've known since I was in second grade. It could be dark there, it could be crowded, people could pity me, I would be looked at as the cripple kid. I did not want that. I did not want that. "No," I whispered.

"What was that?"

"No," I repeated, a little more forcefully. "It's crowded and dark and I wouldn't to be able to read and write my stories and I would have to leave my bed. I would be the weirdo freak, the cripple who is too shy to talk to anyone and afraid of her own shadow. I'm not putting myself through that. I'll go to college in a few years, but absolutely not high school." My voice rose a fraction of a decibel.

"Honey, it's decided. You can't back out of this."

I sighed. "Fine. But I will be going to physical therapy so I can walk for my first day. I will not come in on crutches with massive braces around my body or in a wheelchair. I am going to walk."

My mom seemed frightened by the thought of me walking around by myself. "I don't think it's a good idea to go around by yourself. You could get hurt-"

I shuddered at the mention of pain. "No. I won't. I'll go to physical therapy, I'll actually leave my bed and the house for a few hours so I can walk into school like a normal person. I will not get hurt. I will not. I will not. I will not. I will not get hurt, no no no no pain." I rocked back and forth a little.

I bet you forgot about my phobia of pain.

"Alright, if you say so. I can try to get you a four hour session every day until school starts."

"Five hours."

"Five hours? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I need to do this." I closed my eyes and gently laid down on my bed. "I need sleep."

I was asleep before she left the room. Thankfully, I didn't have any nightmares.

========Time Skip========

"Wake up, it's time for your physical therapy sessions."

I got up and shooed my mom out of my bedroom so I could get changed. I made sure the curtains were drawn so absolutely no light could get out. I put on sweatpants and a light sweater, then laid a blanket over my legs and sat in my wheelchair obediently, carrying my crutches and braces in my lap. I leaned back and closed my eyes as my mom wheeled me up into our modified car. She strapped me in and I double-checked that my chair wasn't going anywhere before she started driving. I closed my eyes again and rested until I felt the car pull over. I opened my eyes and made sure my mom got out before I started undoing the buckles holding me in place. She assisted me, and then she was wheeling me into the lobby of a large building. We went into the therapist's office, where my mom paid and then left me to exercise. I laid my braces on the ground and carefully positioned my arms and crutches just so, and then I stood up on my own, the crutches helping with my balance. The therapist was waaaay to perky, but after five hours, I could walk around without my crutches. I actually got the door when my mom knocked to pick me up. She was so surprised and delighted that she hugged me, and I almost toppled over. I still didn't have excellent balance, and my walking was clumsy, but it was still walking. My mom sat me down in the wheelchair and I pulled the blanket into my lap again along with my crutches and braces. I needed to remember to practice a lot at home. Use the wheelchair only when I'm in public or for long distances.

Once we were home again, I walked around my room for another hour before going to bed an drinking a ton of milk, since it strengthens your bones. I woke up the next morning and repeated the process, but for six hours. Then I walked all around the house, exploring, examining things I never got to, until it was dinner time, which was always something with cheese for me, and today it was several grilled cheese sandwiches, all of which I ate. I ate like a ravenous teenage boy, but I didn't gain any weight at all. I was actually underweight, even with just laying in bed all day for years. Possibly a side affect of my condition.

I honestly think I have some sort of disease that should have really killed me years ago, and my parents are only treating me like this because they are expecting me to die sometime soon so they can use my life insurance money. I'm determined to hang onto life with both hands for as long as I can, fighting tooth and nail for a chance to exist longer.

But one day, my mom told me we were having guests over.

"But why?" I asked, whining a little.

"Don't whine. We are their new neighbors, and we wanted to get you settled in before we invited them over."

I groaned and rolled over in bed. I almost fell off the edge, but I panicked and rolled the other way. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and stretched. "Fine. I'll get changed into something acceptable and the I'll come into the dining room. How should I come? Wheelchair, braces and crutches, or just walking?"

"Braces and crutches. Wearing the braces while you walk will improve your posture."

"Okay. Let me get changed." I picked out purple skinny jeans that were almost big on me and a plain white v-neck t-shirt with a pocket on the chest. I slid on my gray beanie, a gray zip-up hoodie, and some socks. They read 'left foot' and 'right foot', and I purposely put them on the wrong feet. I pulled on my black sweater Uggs and got ready to strap on my lower braces, I wasn't going to use my upper ones. They had straps that wrapped around my legs and metal pieces to keep my legs and back in the correct position for walking. I didn't really need them by now, my legs had never really been twisted, just weak. I strapped my crutches to my arms and when the doorbell rang and nobody answered, I muttered "I guess I'll get it then," under my breath. I unlocked the door and stood far back. "It's open!" I called loudly. "Come right in, I can't answer the door." I stepped away from the door and to the side and the door cautiously swung open. To my surprise, guess who was on the other side. "Well, I guess we're neighbors then, Jamie. I suppose we'll be seeing more of each other than I originally thought."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry so short I've been rushing!

UPDATE DAY!

Toodles my noodles!

~iamanawesometaco