My hand feels like it's being crushed between two molten plates, I groan into my pillow forcing the stump into my stomach. The pressure brings with it another wave of pain, but its impossible to tell if it's real or just phantom. I've been out of the hospital for six weeks now, I was told when I left to get plenty of bed rest, ha, a chance would be a fine thing. Between trying to figure out what happened, weekly physical therapy appointments and trying to help out at home I have seldom got more than a few hours sleep.

Stump still clutched to my stomach I sit up, gazing over to the green illuminated alarm clock on my bedside table.

2:14 am

I grab for a pill bottle that sits beside the clock, only to find its empty, I swear under my breathe. At least I didn't knock the bottle flying trying to grab it with the wrong hand, I have slowly but surely been gravitating my entire life to my right hand side.

Standing up I glance at myself in the mirror, even lit by moonlight I look a state, my long hair a fuzzy mess framing the bags under my eyes nicely. In the silver light the bandages on my arm seem to glow, I turn away quickly. The phantom pain slowly starts to disperse back into the void from whence it came. I breathe a sigh of relief, normally the attacks are intense but short lived. While I was in hospital I heard stories of pains lasting hours and even days, I can't even imagine what that would be like.

I consider a shower, but that means taking the bandage off my stump, not an appealing thought. A bath then, but if i'm honest I don't want to spend another moment being still. A peek out of the window shows a dark world bathed in soft orange streetlights. A grin crosses my lips as I start to pull on a pair of black track suit bottoms, the crumpled T-shirt I've been sleeping in will do fine for this. Sliding socks on one handed proves to be a challenge, but is nothing when compared to tying the laces on my trainers.

"I will not," I loop the first side of the lace and pin it under my stump.

"Be beaten," gasping I push the next loop under the stump with the first.

"By string." With a last grunt and some deft finger work I manage to get my laces tied. I heave a sign of relief, before noticing I still have a shoe to tie.

"Shit"

Before I leave my room I glance down at the Yamaku leaflet, next week I will be traveling half way across the country to a school I've never even heard of to be with people… people like me? Ha, there is no way you could have a school full of Miki's it would have burned to the ground within the first week.

I cross the dimly lit living area in three strides, then pause. My mum lays passed out on our threadbare sofa. Looking at her it's hard to believe she's not yet forty. Her hair once my dark purple is faded, grey roots starting to show through. Dark bags under her eyes reflect many restless nights. Since I came out of hospital she has made a real effort to help me. She's not the perfect mother, but she's mine.

I lay a blanket over her peacefully sleeping frame and pick up a half empty bottle of shochu from the floor. Would she mind? I don't think she would even notice if I took it, my non existent hand prickles uncomfortably. I place the bottle on the kitchen counter, but I can't quite look away.

I stare at the opaque liquid in the bottle for a few long moments, did I drink before the accident? It would not be that strange to liberate a bottle from my mother before going out to meet my friends. Well I say friends, they were mostly seniors from another school, people I thought were cool. Not like at my own school, everyone there seemed so focused on their studies, I never really got on with any of them. In the clear light of dawn I see these cool people only cared about me because I brought them booze. Not one of them sent me so much as a text message since the accident.

Stepping out into the cold night I let an excited shiver run up my spine. I have always liked this time of night, it feels strangely rebellious to be out when everyone else is tucked up safely in bed. The quiet air feels restless, waiting for a sound that during the day would go unnoticed but now can shatter a world of peace. My eyes scan up and down the street, finally settling on a tree at the very end of the road. I run, eyes fixed on the tree, that is my goal, I will not stop until I reach it. Nothing else matters now, I fly towards my target, for the first time in weeks I am free.