Chapter Three
Marcus kept his head down. He was tired of being hounded by the press. He just wanted a few moments of peace.
He sunk down against his house's lower basement wall. Life sucked. There was no other way around it.
His back still hurt. He couldn't lift anything, couldn't bend over, couldn't lift his arms very high, couldn't do much of anything. He couldn't even work for another two weeks. The hospital still hadn't fully released him from their care.
Yep, it really, really sucked.
Reality sucked even more.
It was in his nature to be on the move. Now, that he couldn't, he didn't know what he was going to do. This wasn't working for him.
But what choice did he have.
Sure, he was spending more time with his children, but he couldn't do that forever. They would go off to school, get a life of their own, and leave poor, old dad behind to rust.
He would get over it, maybe. Okay, he would never get over it. It was over.
People told him that the end was the beginning. He wasn't seeing the beginning; all he was seeing was the end.
Author's Note: This story is going to be on hiatus. I will update after I get done with Speak Now. This year my goal is to write a fanfiction for every song off Taylor Swift's album "Speak Now." There'll probably end up being four or five more short chapters.