Lauren - Part 3

A few weeks later.

Soft like a feather, the light of the morning sun tickled Lauren out of her sleep. She frowned and then abruptly opened her eyes. A broad grin appeared on her face.
Finally! Finally it was time! With an energetic push, she threw back the covers and swung her legs, or rather the sad remains of them, over the edge of the bed. With her right hand, Lauren hooked her wheelchair to the bed and pulled herself into it with momentum. Heading for the bathroom, she rolled through the small flat in the rehabilitation clinic that had been assigned to her directly after her hospital stay. Here and there on the floor were still half-filled suitcases and bags containing her clothes and belongings. Lauren hadn't quite managed to fit them into the wardrobes yet.
She thought briefly of the letter that had been on one of the bags when she had come into the room. A letter from her parents. Lauren had torn it up unopened and thrown it in the bin. Not once since her accident had Lauren's parents visited or even called her. Lauren resolutely pushed the memory aside. Today, joy was to rule her mind.
After a lengthy stay in the bathroom, Lauren rummaged through her clothes for suitable pieces and, laden with choice, she moved back onto her bed. In the end, she settled on a simple light grey shirt with her favourite band's logo and army green cargo shorts with large pockets. Sitting up in bed, Lauren looked at herself in the mirror built into the wardrobe. The bruises and cuts that had covered her arms and face like autumn leaves cover the streets were gone except for a few scratches and her tanned skin, which had lost some of its glow in the days she had been confined to bed, was showing well again. With her hands, she fixed her short hair, which fell over her right eye. She registered with satisfaction the joyful sparkle in her unusually bright green, sometimes yellow-looking eyes.
Then Lauren's gaze fell to her legs and frown again. The right leg of her trousers fell loosely over the stump of her right leg and hung down loosely from the edge of the bed. Dissatisfied, she took the piece of fabric in her hands. What should she do with it? Let it hang further down or fold it over? Knot it together? Lauren decided on the latter and tied the trouser leg into a knot where her knee would normally have been. She appraised herself again in the mirror. Nothing needed to be done to the left trouser leg, Lauren decided. It reached just to the end of her short lower leg. But something needed to be done to the lower leg itself. From a compartment of her bedside table she took a compression liner, pushed back the trouser leg and pulled the liner over the stump of her leg. Satisfied that no one could now see the end of her stump directly, Lauren swung herself into her wheelchair again, made her way to the front door and pressed the door opener. Shortly after, she was on her way to the Orthopaedics and Prosthetics Centre.

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The Centre for Orthopaedics and Prosthetics, or COP for short, was located outside the hospital, where Lauren had been staying for several weeks now, since her attempted suicide. To reach the COP, she first had to leave the rehabilitation clinic. She rolled through the corridors of the clinic, greeting the male and female nurses and waving to other patients. Two floors down, she gave her wheelchair the spurs as this corridor was almost empty. Lauren had almost reached the end and was just starting to slow down to take the corner to the entrance hall when a tall person suddenly stepped around said corner.
Lauren collided head-on with her, knocking her off her feet. She lurched to the side, causing the other person to hit the floor beside her. A smartphone fell into her lap, which she reflexively caught.
"Oh, damn! I'm terribly sorry about that!"
Lauren rotated her wheelchair around to face the young woman, she now realised.
"Ah, I'm all right..." the latter groaned, straightening up a little awkwardly. "I always wanted to get run over by a wheelchair."
"I was just going way too fast. I'm really sorry!" Lauren didn't know where to put her hands. She couldn't touch the wheelchair, the murder weapon, and she couldn't help the woman up, she had already done that herself. How embarrassing!

The woman, slim and dressed all in black, knocked a few dusty spots off her shirt and trousers. With her left hand. Only with the left hand. The right hand, in fact, the whole right arm was not existent! The empty sleeve of the black shirt hung loosely down her shoulder.

Lauren groaned inwardly. Of course, not only did she have to knock down a person, no, she had to knock down a one-armed person who could barely catch herself if she fell. Blood rushed to her face and she lowered her eyes to the ground in shame. That was when she saw the prosthesis on the woman's right leg. A metal tube leading from the just visible socket, which was otherwise hidden under the black shortened jeans, into a black ankle boot with a thick sole.

Lauren urgently wished to sink into the ground. She had knocked over a disabled woman. The only thing worse was drowning babies!

"Hey, it's all right, I'm all right." The woman in black put her hand on Lauren's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

If it was still possible, Lauren blushed even more. "Yeah..yeah, I'm fine," she stuttered. She remembered the smartphone she was holding in her hands. "Oh, here, your phone. It just happened to fall into my lap..."

"Well, better there than on the floor." The woman took the smartphone from Lauren. As she did so, she looked directly at Lauren. A crooked smile that reached up to her beautiful blue eyes creased her face.

"Don't worry about that little incident just now. It's forgotten." She tucked the smartphone into her back pocket and then held out her hand to Lauren expectantly.

"I'm Tess." She smiled. Lauren slowly let her gaze slide Tess' eyes to her hand. Then she realised. Too slow, Lauren thought, you're too slow! Lauren was going to hold out her right hand first, then realised that a greeting with it would look a bit awkward and cramped, and then decided to use her left. Tess seemed to be enjoying the whole thing immensely as her grin grew even wider.

"Sorry, I'm Lauren. About just now..."

"Like I said, already forgotten. Don't worry about it. Where were you rushing off to anyway?"

"Oh, I have my first appointment with the prosthetist today." Lauren gestured to her lap. "I really need a set of new legs."

Lauren was proud to have joked. And as hoped, Tess laughed out loud.

"I can understand that feeling!" She paused for a moment. "Okay Lauren, well then, I need to get on to my appointment."

“Oh, you don't seem like you need to see a doctor anymore”.

“Well, it is not a physical thing...”

Lauren's eyes widened in surprise, "You're in treatment with Dr. Smitt too?" Lauren hesitated for a moment. "Head stuff?"

Tess nodded seriously, "Head stuff." She made a circular gesture with her index finger in front of her temple.

"If you want we can meet at the prosthetist's after your appointment. I know where that is." Her grin appeared on her face again.

"Sure, I'd love to!" Lauren smiled back. "I'll see you later then." Lauren pushed her wheelchair a little further to let Tess pass. She watched Tess go until she also turned at the next hallway intersection. And waved. Lauren waved back.

As she rolled into the entrance hall of the rehab clinic, a smile remained on Lauren's face. That had made the day even better! Well, except for that damned running over thing....