It's been almost a year since James lost his leg- and a part of his self with it. Almost a year since he got into that damn car with his older brother, Dylan.since that mini-van crashed into the passenger side of his brother's car. a year since it crushed the lower half of his leg. a year since he had to cut off what used to look like a leg. It's been a damn year and yet he still hasn't found it in him to accept it.

He barely uses the prosthesis he was fitted into, and when he does, it's only a stark reminder of what he's lost, just above what used to be his left knee. He mostly uses crutches to hop around.

It's the summer before his first year of college. His senior year of HS was horrible. From the moment he had gotten into that accident, last August, almost every aspect of his life had changed. He was never too social, but, due to his good looks, he belonged to the popular kids, and he hung out with them. But since the accident, people had changed. They wouldn't really mock him, but he could see their glances of pity, the way they'd glance at him when they complained about PE or any physical stuff, feeling bad about bringing it up in front of him.

That made him distance himself from everyone. He wanted to spare himself of the pity and concern in their eyes. It made him feel even more disabled, made him feel like an outcast.

His personal life wasn't much different. Apart from going to school, he visited his doctor monthly, and that was it. He wouldn't go out, wouldn't hang out with anyone, he'd just stay in his room and play video games and watch the Star Wars movies over and over again. He sometimes wished that his prosthetic was a robotic cool one, like Anakin's- maybe that way he'd feel less disgusted about wearing it.

He went from being an overlooked middle child to the center of attention in his family quickly. He hated it. He hated his mother's concern, how his little sister, Mia barely talked to him and how Dylan had stopped picking on him from the minute he became crippled. He didn't want them to feel sorry for him, he didn't want them to be so worried. He wanted them to make him feel normal. It was a morning in June. James had woken up by the sound of kids playing. He let out a frustrated grunt and got out of bed. He hopped over to his window. He took a swift look at the crutches by his bed, he didn't need them when he was home.

He hopped over to the bathroom, relieving himself. He looked at himself in the mirror. His brown hair was messy from his sleep. His eyes roamed over his freckled face and then moved down to his exposed torso. He wasn't athletic, but he wasn't too thin either. A few scars from the accident were still evident.

Bzzz his phone buzzed his mom. "Hey hun.sorry if this is a lot to ask could you go to the pharmacy to get mias inhaler? I'd go but I have a meeting."

After some contemplation, he reluctantly agreed. He went to his room and got dressed. He looked at his prosthetic in annoyance,getting his stump sock and putting it over it, and sliding his stump in the prosthetic's socket, hiding it with his grey sweatpants.

He got his keys, crutches,and the prescription and left the house