Artie Abrams can't stand it anymore. The torture at school, the looks her gets as he wheels down the street, oh, and the fact that he'll never stand or walk again.
It takes a single person to ruin a life but it takes a single person to build it back up again.
And that person is who Artie expected least.
This is just going to be a quick one. I only plan on about 9 chapters but about half of them will be short like this one. Just a filler not the actual main part of the story.
Please Enjoy
MiniKimChi
************************************** Chapter 1 **************************************
Ms. Abrams sat at the kitchen table; tear streaks on her face, and glossy photos on the table. Pictures of her son running around the yard, climbing trees and doing everything that a normal 8-year-old should be doing surrounding her.
She turned the photograph over and looked at the date written on the back.
April 6, 2002
7 days later, her son wouldn't have a smile on his face. Instead, thousands of scrapes would replace that wide toothy grin.
7 days after that photo was taken, her son would be the way she knew him now. Sitting in a wheelchair unable to move his lower half.
Ms. Abrams was pulled from her thoughts by the front door being slammed shut.
Quickly, she gathered the photographs, stuffed them into the box and put it on top of the refrigerator. She hated using her son's disadvantage to hers. She hastily wiped the tears that remained on her face and turned to face her son who was just coming down the hall towards the kitchen.
"Hey mom," Artie said as he wheeled himself into the kitchen.
"Hi honey, how was school?"
"Fine," but Ms. Abrams knew better. Her son answered too quickly for it to be nothing.
Quietly she looked over at her son. Artie had just gotten a. Bottle of water from the fridge and was heading towards his room.
"It's not just nothing is it?" she asked causing Artie to stop is his tracks.
Slowly he turned around and looks his mom in the eyes. He had tear streaks down the side of his cheeks and more tears we about to fall.
"Mom," he asked slowly, "Why did I live?"
Those two words, why and live, hit Ms. Abrams hard when they were used in the same sentence. After the accident Artie had been depressed. He didn't eat and when he did, he threw up. He didn't talk and when he did, it was a single word. He didn't sleep and when he did, it was full of nightmares.
"Why am I even here?"
"Artie look at me," Ms. Abrams said walking over to Artie and kneeling down in front of him. "You are here because you are strong."
"I wasn't strong enough to come out of the accident like you." Artie said looking down at the hands in his lap.
"Sweetie, that was just a hurdle and you got over it." she paused. "Did I ever tell you about the first time I knew you were going to be strong enough to make it through anything?"
Artie shook his head. Ms. Abrams gently sat down against the hallway wall.