Week 18's prompt: bit -dot- ly / 15nm7lj


They said there was no hope. They said I'd never feel them again. Never walk. Never run. Never even stand. One of them even had the nerve to say he doubted I'd be able to sit without being strapped in.

He blew into my life and told them all they were wrong, that we would prove them wrong. I desperately clung to his words, his hope.

A week later he introduced me to torture.

The water and devices helped keep me afloat and rebuild the muscles. I never thought I'd be so tired after splashing around for a few minutes.

Minutes reluctantly became hours before exhaustion hit.

I stopped cringing at the wrinkled skin and green hair and noticed the toned muscles redefine my body. One doctor after the next started to change their minds, agreeing that maybe he was right.

Yesterday I took my first step on land in over a year. I had almost collapsed overcome with joy, his arms wrapping around me keeping me upright.

As I float around today killing time before physiotherapy starts, I enjoy the feel of the water dripping down one leg as I lift it above the water's surface.

Feeling had returned.


Word count: 200