Chapter Two - Progress

-- Tris

The physical therapist that has been working with me is very kind.

She's tall, and her hair is dyed blonde, her roots a darker brown color. Her smile is gentle, and she has patience I dream to ever have a portion of.

She greets me and talks my ear off as she wheels me across the room I was in. This area of the hospital is full of large glass windows, and the walls are a shade of blue that is just barely too dark to consider it baby blue.

"How are you feeling today?" She asks me as we take a turn down the one hallway. Her office is just outside of the rehab center, and it's not specifically for hospital patients.

It's for people in the real world as well.

"Honestly, I'm anxious."

"Why's that?" She asks, pressing a button to automatically open the door to the real world filled with real world people. She pushes me in the chair, taking the first hallway on the left past a waiting room of people.

"I really want to go outside. Walk. Be able to get around."

"Well, apparently what I have planned for today is a good plan. Today I was going to get you your own pair of crutches. You know, get them for your height, and they'll be padded, unlike the extra crappy ones you've used with me. I also wanted to work with you on getting up when you fall. It sounds a lot easier than it actually is... especially with that cast going up past your knee."

I smile at the thought of using crutches. It means I would be able to walk, on one leg of course, but on my own.

"I feel bad for forgetting, but what's your name?" I ask, knowing I ask her this almost every day.

"That's alright." She lightly laughs. "And call me Julie."

"And you're Beatrice." She jokingly emphasizes my full name, and I groan.

"Tris." I use the same tone she used on my full name.

I know she goes through this to make sure I don't forget my name. After my last trip into the real world, everyone was convinced I forgot who I was. Now, everyone, all the time is asking me what my name is, when my birthday is, what my birth faction is, who my friends are, where I am, and everything along those lines.

"I don't remember you telling me your birthday."

Of course. Next question on the list.

"The one nurse said she was going to find it out. I was born Abnegation, and birthdays are considered self centered. Abnegation be--"

"Believes in rejecting vanity." She cuts me off.

"You're an Erudite born."

"Born and raised."

"My brother transferred to Erudite."

"Caleb Prior."

"You really do read minds, don't you Julie."

"Whatever you want to believe." She laughs, taking the next corner where the physical therapy center is located.

"I had a nurse named Julie in the other section of the hospital. How do I keep forgetting your name?"

"You've got enough excitement in that nogin of yours," she says, poking the side of my head above my left ear, "Remembering my name has to be the last thing on your mind."

"I'm going to remember it, and never ask again."

"Aww. But I'll miss you asking my name every other day." She jokes, pressing the button the automatically opens the door to the physical therapy center.

I hate this part of the journey to the center. There's always a lot of people in the main area of the center. The setting reminds me of something, but I'm not sure what.

My heart rate accelerates, but I remind myself that these people also are injured, and won't hurt me.

For some reason, that makes me less safe than I was before; a blank memory of a room of injured people sitting in the back of my mind.

Julie takes me to the back of the center where there is smaller individual rooms.

"I'm going to make a pit stop and grab a pair of crutches at the closet at the end of the hall. We're going to the room with the padded floor, remember that one?"

I nod, still uncomfortable from the room of people using machines to get their strength back.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She says and I frown, not understanding what she means by saying that.

"What are you thinking? You look perplexed."

I contemplate opening up, but decide against it, shaking my head.

How am I suppose to explain things I don't understand?

She rolls me into the room just to the right of the closet where she pulled long metal contraptions, I assume they're crutches, out of. The room is a beige color, and bright blue matts line the floor, the wheels of the wheelchair leaving a slight indent, only to fit back to their original shape seconds later.

There's no door on the room, making it oddly strange. There's a cushioned chair in the one corner by a window, but other than that the room is empty.

"Let's get you up on your feet, shall we?" She says, locking the wheels of the wheelchair, and pushing the footrests to the side with her foot.

"Are you sure this thing won't move," I say, hesitant.

"As long as I can help it, these wheels aren't going anywhere."

I move around in the chair, contemplating how I should get onto my right foot. I look to Julie for guidance, and she gives me a reassuring smile.

"I want to see how you do. I'll be here to catch you, don't worry."

I grip onto the armrests of the chair and plant my right foot onto the ground. Pushing with all my strength, I raise my bottom from the chair.

I get standing upright, but begin to fall to my left side and forwards. Just as she promised, Julie holds me by my shoulders and adjusts my balance. I feel alright until my right leg buckles and my bottom crashes back into the wheelchair.

I gasp, gripping the armrests for security.

"That was great, Tris. Seriously, that's amazing progress. It also shows you are ready for the crutches, because they will help that little balance issue of falling to one side."

"You're just over five feet tall, so your medical records say." She says indirectly as she messes with the pieces of metal with plastic on them.

They look much different than the crutches I have tried before. These are a silvery grey color, and there is padding for the part that goes under the arms, and where your hands go. The ones I used before weren't really a particular color for they had colored tape all over them, and the squishy stuff all had fallen off.

"So, this is how we're going to do this. First I will help you get standing, and then I'll hand you the crutches. All I want you to do is stand there and hold your balance with them. I want to make sure they're the right fit for you."

I know the motion for her helping me stand up. Her thumbs are facing her with her hands under my armpits and I pull up on her holding onto her forearms. She told me it's a weird way to do it, but most of her patients aren't as short to her compared to how short I am to her height.

So she gets me on my feet and hands me a crutch in my left hand.

"Shift your weight so that you can balance between your left arm and your right leg. If you stay equally planted between these two, then your balance won't waver."

"I'm falling!" I rasp in panic, feeling my arm shake.

"You're doing great Tris. You're already so much stronger than you were a week ago."

She hands me the other crutch in my right hand and I add too much weight to my right side to quickly, almost toppling over. Julie catches me by my shoulders and helps me back into a balanced position.

After a few seconds, she slowly backs away from me, grinning from ear to ear.

"Now this is what I call progress, Tris." She brings back the joke about my real name from the tone in her voice.

Progress.

I can't stop the smile that forms on my face.

Progress.