Again

Prince Charming

Chapter 3

I was awoken from my heavy sleep by someone shaking me. "Leave me alone," I groaned. "Leave me alone and let me die."

"You're not going to die." A male voice laughed, exasperated. I recognized that voice.

I pulled open one eyelid. "Greg?" Through my squint I could see his smiling face and pretty blue eyes.

"What did you expect? Prince," Greg striked a pose. "Not-as-charming?" Greg gave a cheesy smile. I shut my eyes and gave a little laugh. Mr. Narcissistic.

"Ow." Oh, yeah. It hurts to laugh.

"What'd ya do, princess, drive into a wall?" He asked looking over the bandages on my body.

"Some assh… er, jerk, ran right into me!"

"Right into you, huh?" Greg lifted and eyebrow and helped me sit up. "Come on, let's sit up,"

Wriggling out of his grip, I explained "I'm fine. I can walk. I'm not crippled." He pulled back his hands and put them up in defeat.

"Alright. Go ahead." He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. His smile made me feel like a little girl. A stupid, stupid little girl. I got up, gave a little 'hmph', and fell down flat on my face. That sure made me feel smart. "Are you ok?" he asked while suppressing a laugh, helping me up, and handing me my crutches.

"Thanks." I muttered under my breathe.

"No prob." Greg opened the door in front of me out of the hospital room and bowed. "After you." I hobbled my way to the front door. Walking on crutches is no easy trick and I didn't like it the moment it started irritate my armpits. In fact, I never liked crutches and never will.

I remember when my sister fractured her knee from her foot meeting the cement in a scooter incident. The crutches were always a problem… At school, at home, in the bathroom- You get my drift. Crutches are an awful pain.

I wobbled out into the hallway. The walls were a pale white with wood trimming. I saw nurses and doctors walking hurriedly around to various needy patients. I could hear talking, phones ringing, wheels squeaking, and distressful moaning. I pushed myself forward with my two problem crutches. I did my best to keep my plastered foot up off the floor, but every now and then I could feel that strange sensation of styrofoam pieces rubbing against each other.

"Are you sure you don't need help?" Greg persisted.

"I'm fine." I growled, exasperated. It was really sweet of him to care about me, but right now I had way too much on my plate. I never wanted the all-you-can-eat buffet, either.

As we passed the main desk I recognized the friendly smile.

"Well, if it isn't little miss sleepin' beauty herself! And is this yer Prince Charmin'?" The nurse asked, smiling. I blushed and laughed. Damn! How many times am I going to turn red this week? It's only Monday!

I looked at the wall clock in the hallway. Er, it was still Monday. I looked back at the nurse and shook my head no.

"He's a family friend. Greg." I explained. She waved her hand knowingly.

"O' course it was Greg! I can tell a Prince Charmin' when I see one!" She confirmed with a laugh. I smacked my forehead. Greg laughed.

"I bet you do," He agreed, slightly sarcastic with a low voice clear and deep. It reminded me of velvet. Dark red velvet... Sorry! Getting wrapped up in fantasies! Moving on!

"I'm sorry, what's your name again?" Greg asked.

"Abagail Williams. Abby fer short." She announced.

"Ah, well, thanks Abby! We'll be on our way!" He told her, gave her a little wave, and started to walk, prodding me to follow but she stopped us.

"Now just wait one minute! You need yer prescription, remember?" She reminded us. Greg smiled, turned around, and walked up to the counter. Abby smiled and handed Greg the small white paper baggie with writing on it.

"Bye y'all!" Abby waved us off. I smiled back at her and continued my hobble over to the elevator. Greg helped me a few times with me swatting away his hands explaining I was fine. I had SO damned much on my mind.

The way home was filled with small talk and long pauses of me thinking. Greg drove me home in a little black Camry and played Linkin Park in the car. We laughed and talked about them and other things.

Greg pulled into the driveway in front of the house and parked his good old Camry next to the spot that would usually be taken by my now dead van. Greg took out his keys, got out of the car and, the gentleman that he was, walked over to my side of the car and opened my door for me. I thanked him, pulled myself out of the little car, literally hopped out, picked up my crutches, and hobbled to the front door. He searched his pockets for keys, turned the key in the lock, jiggled the poor old rusted front metal screen and pushed open the stuck front door. I smiled and thanked him.

"No prob." He assured me, smiled, and tried to help me again.

"I'm good." I told him and walked, all by myself, to my room while Greg followed close behind, ready to catch me if I fell with my crippled leg that dragged across the wood hallway. I prayed Katie slept soundly and didn't have to face Katie and tell her that I crashed and broke my ankle, she would have too much fun tormenting me about it. Greg pushed the door open for me and turned on the light. It surprisingly bright and I blinked to look at me measly room. I had my dresser on one side and my desk with loads of crap on it on the other side, my leopard print bed in the far corner and my window with jungle green curtains hanging on them to keep out the waning moonlight. I strode inside as gracefully as I could with a cast, turned around and smiled warmly at Greg.

"Thanks a lot! G'night!" I dismissed him a loud whisper.

As soon as he could open his mouth in protest I shut the door in his face. There was silence and then thudding of padded footsteps down the hall, the creak of the back door and the slam afterwards. I let out a long moaning breath and put my back to the door and slid down to the floor with a thud. I sat there with my ceiling light blaring at me and a gnawing pain choking my throat and clawing at my eyes. I didn't want to cry. What was the use of it? So pointless and...

I broke out into silent sobs and cried myself to sleep, sitting up, and with a horrible feeling of what I was going to have to do tomorrow.