Rogue

I was lazing around the house again. I fucking felt the need to do it. While I was in the joint just doing your own thing was a fucking luxury. I wasn’t obligated to stay indoors just because I was on parole, and I could probably track a few of the people I used to hang out with before, but the idea wasn’t appealing, not one bit.

More importantly, it had been a few days, and Claire was still too busy with work to go to the hospital with me. I had hoped, the day she said she’d meet me at the hospital at lunch, that I could just go and meet her there when she went. I should have gone alone in the morning, but I chickened out again.

It wasn’t easy, though. I could remember having this feeling of helplessness before, when I’d thought I was in for a good basketball career, only to get hit with a serious injury. This situation was wholly different, but just like then, I didn’t have the confidence to make a move.

“Ugh,” I groaned, jumping off the couch.

Over the past few days, I’d been alter