Archie - Weak
He locked the bathroom door and walked to the sink, setting down his towel and spare clothes, absently noticing his reflection doing the same in the mirror that took up more than half the wall above the sink. He laid the bathmat outside the shower door and hung his towel over one of the glass sides. He sighed, looking directly at his mirrored self, it would be best to get this over with. He stripped off all his clothes so that the only thing he was wearing was the ankle brace that gleamed in the bright bathroom. He turned on the shower, making sure it was the correct temperature, before seating himself on the side of the bath and carefully released his ankle from the brace, laying it on the bench beside his clothes. He refused to bathe with it on.
He stood slowly, gently shifting some of his body weight onto his right leg. For a few seconds he felt normal, but then his ankle twinged sharply and he found himself clutching at the sink for support as he stared into the pained eyes of the boy in the mirror. They quickly became furious. He was so weak! No wonder he couldn't go ahead and bite the bullet when it came to Atlanta! Without his ankle brace he was useless, a cripple. Why would anyone want him, broken as he was?
He sighed and stood as straight as he could while still leaning on the sink and prepared himself for the walk to the shower, a grand total of about 1.5 metres. How epic. He made his first move, kind of like a cross between a hop and a step with his left foot, only the toes of his right foot resting on the floor to help maintain his balance along with the wild flailing of his arms. It took him four 'steps' to reach the shower.
He caught sight of himself in the mirror as he, the mighty Warrior, stumbled awkwardly to the shower wearing only his birthday suit. A slight, hysterical chuckle slipped from his lips. He finally got into the shower, leaning on the soap dish for support, hoping as he did every night that it was secured quite firmly to the shower wall. The warm water pounded into his back and he was tempted to relax, but he knew he had to keep his mind sharp. The fact that the floor of the shower was slippery was a hard learned lesson that gave him a sore tailbone for days. And today it would be worse because he was washing his hair and his conditioner made it hellishly slippery, even for someone with two feet solidly on the ground.
As he rubbed the shampoo into his scalp he turned to watch himself in the mirror. The bottom half of the shower glass was already fogged with steam, thanks to soap scum, so he could only see his torso. His normal half. He turned back around to rinse his hair and continued with his shower routine. He soon shut off the water, wrapped a towel around himself and hobbled frantically over to the side of the bath, sitting down with a moan of relief, his left leg trembling slightly, not used to bearing his full weight for so long.
He dried himself as he sat, something he was quite good at now, before grabbing his brace and enclosing his ankle in the protective metal. He stood, no longer the crippled boy of moments before. He was probably stupid to push himself like that, if he hurt his ankle further while not wearing the brace there would be unpleasant consequences regarding his mobility. He should probably just take a bath, but even that amount of water had the potential to make him nervous. He wiped a circle in the fogged up mirror so he could see himself as he brushed his teeth. He looked at himself. No matter what anyone else said, he knew the truth. He was weak.
Please, review if you liked. One word is better than silence. Tomorrow, Theresa.
