This here is an added chapter from the manuscript version. Hope you enjoy!

My eyes opened, and the white ceiling was there. Same as the plain beige walls. Cards telling me to Feel Better Soon! lined shelves while half deflated princess themed balloons struggled to stay afloat. A couple of vases containing wilting flowers flanked a new arrangement of white roses on the windowsill. They helped mask the awful permeating antiseptic stench that I hardly noticed after being in the hospital for so long.

A double knock tapped at the door.

"Knock, knock." Doctor Brenda Birch peered her ginger haired head in and smiled. She had been my doctor since I was little and was also my mom's best friend. That basically made her my second mother, and she took that role in my life seriously. "How's my favorite patient today?" Slowly, she entered, followed on her heels by a short, dark haired woman who had been lurking outside my hospital room for days.

"Fine." Immediately, I shifted my focus out the window. Sky, blue. Sun, bright. It looked like a beautiful day, but looks could be deceiving. I was a perfect example of that.

Brenda's brown eyes studied the monitors as she approached. Her stethoscope, primed and ready for use. "This might be cold." She pressed the cool metal against my chest and listened intently. "Sounds good to me."

I flashed a smile to keep up the ruse.

The other woman lingered near the door, typing on her iPad. Brenda sat on the edge of my bed and glanced at the tray of food from this morning. Some yellow glob resembling scrambled eggs, and two slices of burnt bacon accompanied the green gelatin that had sat there for a few hours at least.

"I guess you weren't hungry again?" Brenda's eyebrows lifted.

"No." The gnawing pain in the pit of my stomach for the past few weeks saw to that. And even if I did eat anything, that queasy, nauseous feeling would crash over me, so why bother.

Her phone chirped, and she glanced at the screen. "I have to take this." She strode toward the woman still standing there. "Shelby, Kathy, was telling me that you've been refusing to start physical therapy?"

Not blatant refusing, more like actively avoiding.

I sat as straight as possible. "I'm fine."

That blanket statement had become my go-to motto to avoid conversations that made me uneasy. Anyone asked how I was feeling, that was my answer. When the psychiatrist tried talking to me about dealing with my traumatic loss, I used it. Everyone wanted me to be okay, to be coping. It just made their lives easier if I pretended to be fine all the time.

"No. You're not, kiddo," Brenda corrected with forced a smile. "You're never going to get out of that bed unless you start working at it."

Both my aunt Sarah and Brenda had given me this spiel before, so my ability to tune her out was automatic.

I didn't bother paying attention again until she said, "I'm leaving you in Kathy's capable hands. So, I expect to see results." She patted Kathy's shoulder and made sure to close the door behind her when she left.

Kathy stood there for a few moments, arms crossed, sizing me up. I did the same. Dark hair, dark eyes, golden brown skin that worked perfectly with her petite frame. Everything about her was little. Small. Easily manipulable, I figured.

She marched to the bedside, hand extended to greet me. "Hi, Shelby, I'm—"

"Kathy. I heard," I droned before concentrating hard on reading the signatures scribbled on a few of the cards clear across the room.

"Kathy Vasquez, actually." She dropped her arm with a sigh and whipped out her tablet. "So... I was looking at your history, and I need to go over a few things before we get started."

Maybe if pretended that she wasn't here, maybe she'd just leave?

Kathy cleared her throat to prompt my attention. I didn't fall for it. "Okay. Anyway." Her voice changed from soft to stern. "It says here that you have an allergy to latex, but no allergies to any medications."

"Yep." I sank into the pillows propped behind me, glaring.

She pressed a finger to the screen, scrolling the information. "You were in an automobile accident a little over a month ago?"

"Yep," I repeated. Maybe one-word answers would irritate Kathy like her nasally voice bothered me.

"And you had a few cracked ribs, a collapsed lung, a brain bleed; your spleen removed and your lower left leg amputated. It looks like you're stuck with a pretty long treatment plan for physical therapy."

I shrugged. Seriously? Was this necessary?

After Kathy finished with a couple more questions, she rounded the bed, lowering the metal rails. "This is a gait belt." She raised the off-white, wide strap and wrapped it underneath my lower back. "We're going to need to use this for a while until you get comfortable moving around on your own."

All of this was happening fast. Too fast. "Can we just..." I brushed her hands away. "Stop. Stop."

"Shelby, we've got to get started." Kathy tightened the belt around the front of my waist, over the putrid colored gown.

My entire body trembled and recoiled. "I get that. But just leave me alone for today and—"

Kathy tied her eyes to mine, determined. "And what? Come back tomorrow for you to give the nurses or me another excuse?"

Well, that was the plan. Apparently, I'd have to think of something else. Like asking for a different physical therapist altogether.

"No," I lied. "Tomorrow would be better. I'm tired..."

"Sure, you are." Kathy grabbed my phone from the tray and placed it by the sink, on the other side of the room. "Forgive me if I have a different definition of you. You're stubborn, and you need to get over yourself. The sooner that you do, the sooner you can get on with living your life."

"My life," I forced out around the lump forming in my throat. "What do you know about my life?"

She stripped my fleece Cinderella cover off me, completely exposing me except for the awful hospital gown I wore. A large piece of white gauze wrapped the stump on my left leg from the knee to mid thigh. I turned my head, avoiding the sight of it. If I didn't look at it, it wasn't real. It didn't happen.

"I'm sorry your parents and brother lost their lives in that accident, Shelby," Kathy said, voice full of empathy. "But that doesn't give you the right to give up on yours."

"I'm not," I said between clenched teeth. Kathy had no idea what it was like being me. That accident robbed me of everything. My family. My leg. Any semblance of happiness.

A cold sweat prickled my skin. I closed my eyes, needing to dam the tears before they fell. My hands clamped into fists around the bed sheet between my shaky fingers. I breathed deep, holding the air in as long as possible to quiet the throbbing in my chest.

Kathy took a step back, an arm folded stance that she must have perfected over time. "Then prove it." She gestured for me to sit myself up at the side of the bed. "Go ahead."

"No," I snapped. I didn't have to prove anything, especially to Kathy.

A smug smile formed on her lips as she hoisted me by the belt until I sat straight. My right leg dangled off the side, and the sensation of falling had me slipping. I attempted to balance myself, knocking the back of my left knee into the lowered metal bar.

"Ow!" I cried out as the burning pain tore right through me. From the tip of my toes to the top of my left thigh someone could have lit me on fire, and I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. "Make it stop."

"Make what stop?" Kathy placed a hand on my shoulder to steady me. "Just take a deep breath. In and out."

"The pain," I sputtered out between gasps and scrunched my face to keep from screaming. "My leg."

"Okay, show me where it hurts," she said as my body slumped.

I couldn't take it and tried leaning back, but Kathy grasped onto the belt to hold me upright.

"Here." Reaching down, I slapped at my lower left leg, but my hand swiped straight through. There was nothing there. Nothing but the feeling of a thousand knives stabbing my leg. My pulse pounded in my ears, and everything in the room wouldn't stop spinning.

"Shelby, look at me," Kathy instructed and tilted my chin, pinning me with her dark eyes. "What you're feeling is just a phantom pain. It will pass, but you need to take some deep breaths and concentrate on something else." She glanced over her shoulder. "Look at the tree out the window and count the leaves that you see."

My gaze flickered past her to that stupid damn tree. "Fine," I said breathlessly. "One. Two." The pain wasn't subsiding. If anything, it was worse. "Three. It's not. Arghh..." I doubled over and teetered toward the gray vinyl floor.

Kathy still held onto the gait belt, but couldn't stop the inevitable. I fell, landing on my right side. From what I could tell, I didn't hurt anything other than my pride.

She sprung to action, tucking her hands underneath my arms. "Here, let me help you."

A sob of frustration emanated from my chest. "Don't touch me." I swatted her hands away. I pushed off the ground by my arms and scooted backward. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Kathy's short frame loomed over me, momentarily. "Shelby, just let me help you." She crouched before me to try again.

"Leave me alone." I shoved her by her shoulders while sitting and threw myself off balance and ramming into the metal bar behind me. My back flinched bolt straight, and I winced from the pressure.

"I'm only going to offer one last time," Kathy said as she rose and held a hand to me.

"Or what?" I glared up at her. "What are you going to do?"

Kathy pointed to the door. "I'll leave."

"Good," I scoffed. "Leave then. It's what I've wanted since you came in here."

She cocked an eyebrow in challenge. "Are you sure that's what you want?" To test me, she took a couple of steps, rounding the bed, but stayed in my periphery. "Because once I step out that door, no one will help you, Shelby, until you ask for me."

"We'll see about that." I leaned against the side of the bed and crossed my arms. All I'd have to do was give it a few minutes and hit the nurse's call button. Then Melissa, my nurse for today, would come right in and help me. I wasn't worried in the least about her threat.

"Okay," Kathy said, sounding chipper. "You have a good day sitting there on that dirty hospital floor without anything. Just yourself."

"Fine," I spat as her footfalls tapped farther away.

A gust of noise from the outside hallway was sucked into the room when she opened the door. "Last chance, Shelby." A quick count of a dozen or so heartbeats continued before she heaved a sound of distress and walked through the doorway.

The door slowly creaked as it closed and clicked shut.

I sat there for a few moments, relishing the silence until it lingered for a little too long. I looked over my shoulder, spotting the nurse's call button. Already there were a couple of issues. Not only was it on the other side of the bed, but also hanging out of arm's reach from the floor. Ugh.

That left me with scooting on my butt around the foot of the bed and down the left side. A small cabinet holding a few medical supplies stood in my way, but maybe it wasn't a problem after all? I opened the first drawer, hoisting my body till all the weight was supported on my right knee. The second drawer was locked, forcing me to skip it and pull out the third one at the top. I hoisted myself to an almost standing position, reaching for the call button when the cabinet became unbalanced and tipped over, sending me to the floor.

The cabinet, drawers, and all crashed on top of me. I cried out, "Aaah..." The shrill and deafening sound bounced off the walls.

I lied there, face down and pushed to my side. Someone must have heard me. There was no way they didn't. My eyes stayed peeled to the door, anticipating it opening at any second. Seconds turned to minutes, and no one came.

"Hello?" I yelled. "Is someone going to come in here?

Nothing.

The only sound in the room was the subtle tick tock of the clock above the door. Several more minutes morphed to a dozen more.

Why should my fate here on this floor have been any different than my life? I was alone. In here. Out there. None of it mattered. The hollow place in my chest clenched as panic filled me.

I bellowed, "Can anyone hear me?"

After I didn't know how long, I sunk onto the floor, using my right arm as a pillow. The shadow from the afternoon sun, dense and high on the wall opposite the window, had faded and slowly glided across the surface as an hour passed and then another.

The only thing that kept me company besides my tears were my memories of my family—of my life before all this. Cheering. High school. Parties. My friends.

Why me? Why did this have to happen? What was I going to do without them?

Hopelessness was consuming me whole. Each shaky breath I sucked in, just fueled more of it.

And then it hit me. If my family saw me here, lying on this disgusting, cold, and hard floor—giving up, what would they have said?

Mom: Come on, baby, you can do this.

Dad: I taught you to be stronger than this. Fight, Shelby. Fight.

Kyle: Get your ass up, Shelby!

I wiped the tears from my eyes, pushed up on my elbows, and called out, "Kathy, I need your help, please?"

At first, I thought she didn't hear me and opened my mouth to try again when the door cracked open.

"You ready to get to work now?" Kathy gave me a satisfied smirk once she entered the room.

"Yes," I said. "I'm ready to get started."

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