Man, I can’t believe I was stuck in the hospital for over a week.  Of course, my whole life turned upside down in a matter of seconds.  I was playing the homecoming football game and then, I found myself totally unable to move.  I had never been more frightened than the moment I learned I may never walk again.
     I was already picturing the headline for the local paper:  Star Cornerback Receives Paralyzing Injury.  And to make matters worse, what would Dad think of me?  I couldn’t fulfill the destiny he wanted me to go for, being the star football player.  Dad was furious I couldn’t get up, but more furious after learning about my paralysis.
     Luckily, Dr. Stansbury was there to make sure nothing else could happen to me.  The day before I got to go home, he explained to me that even though there was just that 8% chance of walking again, there had been people courageous enough to literally defy those odds.  They were able to walk again, and even though they could never play football again, they were just blessed enough to be able to stand up and walk, period.
     He planned to outfit me with a special wheelchair, so I could at least get the mobility to move about school.  I mean, since the passing of that People with Disabilities Act, Hawkinsdale High was one of the first schools to make the area easily accessible by wheelchair, crutches, and the like.
     My only concerns were that my friends wouldn’t like me anymore because I could no longer play the game.  Plus, there was the strange light at around the 20-yard line along with the voice I heard in my head.  The biggest worry, no question, was Dad.  Knowing I could no longer play football, my—I mean, his—dream was crushed.  I would never get the chance to play in the pros, and all that money was literally lost after that one play.
     When I got into the wheelchair, I actually found it very comfortable.  It wasn’t one of those standard wheelchairs; it was more of the electronic type, where I didn’t have to make someone push me to where I needed to go.  That was cool.  Despite the very limited use of my arms, I was able to use the joystick rather easily.  Dr. Stansbury just said, “Think of it as being a character in a video game.  You just won’t be able to do all those fancy moves, that’s all.”
     I laughed about it, because he was right.  I did like to play video games ever so often, but now I wondered if I could ever live that normal life again.
     I sat in his office the afternoon before I was to go home.  “So, what can I do now, Doc?  I won’t be able to walk again.”
     “Don’t lose hope, Josh.  Remember, miracles can happen.  Now, we do have a special treatment where with physical therapy and shock stimulation, you may be able to beat the odds.  There’s just one catch, though.”
     “Um, what is it?”
     The doctor put his face down.  “We have to get your father’s permission for the treatment.”
     My eyes widened in shock.  “No…Dad has to approve it?”
     “Yes.  You’re not at the legal age yet, that’s why.”
     “I forgot, I’m only 17 right now.  My birthday won’t come until next summer.  I know Dad won’t go for it.”
     “Maybe if I show him what we can do here, maybe he can change his mind.  Would you like to see it also?”
     I thought it over and said, “Sure, why not.  Maybe it can be a bit encouraging for me.”
     Later on, Dr. Stansbury went by my house to see my father.  “Mr. Mitchell, would you like to come to the hospital and see if you want your son to take on therapy to possibly get him to walk again?”
     “Get him to walk!?” he yelled.  “As long as my son can’t play football, why bother?  It’s just gonna be a waste of time.”
     “Sir, I know you mean well, but right now your son is only thinking about the chance to walk again.  He knows that’s more important than football.”
     Dad became very enraged by that.  “There is nothing more important than football!  As long as he’s unable to play, I don’t even want to call him my son.”
     The doctor stared at Dad with very cold eyes.  “How can you say that about your son?” he asked with a low and angry tone.  “He’s been a successful football player with the team, but the most important thing for him now is to be able to stand up and walk again.  He has his priorities in order.  Now, unless we get your permission, we can’t go through with the treatment.”
     “Then you can stuff it!  I will not let my poor excuse of a son get that therapy unless he can play football again!”
     Dr. Stansbury turned away for a minute to think.  Mr. Mitchell is completely blind.  He won’t understand his son’s purpose.  Football is not the only means to live.  Josh knows that, but his father won’t even touch on the subject.  I am a doctor, and I have to be truthful.  However, in a case like this, my only chance to get him to agree is to lie and say Josh may have another shot at football.  I have no other choice.  I am risking my license, but for Josh’s sake, it’s the only way to solve this.
     He then faced Dad again.  “Mr. Mitchell, this therapy will assure that your son will be able to play football again by next year, I promise.”
     Dad’s eyes lit up.  “You can do it, for real?  Wonderful!  I want to see what this therapy looks like.”
     “Very well.  Come with me to the hospital, and I’ll show you what we’ll do.”
     As Dad passed by the football field, he noticed a strange light at about the 20-yard line.
     Whatever was there seemed to be shaking the top part left and right, like it was shaking a head.
     “Nah, it’s nothing.  I shouldn’t worry.  I need to think more about my son’s future as a professional football player.”
     When Dad and the doc arrived, I was waiting for them.
     Dad noticed me in the wheelchair.  “Ugh.  My son, reduced to being a cripple, at least just for now anyway.  By next year, he’ll be back on the field again.”
     I looked at him with confusion.  “What are you talking about?”
     Dr. Stansbury intervened.  “Um, Mr. Mitchell, I need to talk with Josh about something right now.  Can you give us a minute?”
     “Sure, go ahead.  I can’t wait to be able to see my son be the star again.”
     When he took me to the side, he whispered, “Josh, listen to me.  I had to trick your father into coming here by telling him you may be able to play football again by next year.”
     “Why did you do that for?  I don’t want to play football anymore.”
     “I know you don’t, but it’s the only way I can get your father’s approval of the your treatment.  If you wait too long, the condition will worsen.  That 8% chance will drop to zero in about a month or two.”
     “That serious?”  I wasn’t sure what to do because Dr. Stansbury lied to Dad.  Under the existing circumstances, though, maybe it was in the best interest.  If I didn’t get that treatment, walking would never be a part of my life again.  “Okay, I’ll play along with you.  Maybe it’ll get Dad to listen to me for a change.”
     “Okay.  I’ll show you and your father what we’ll do.”  The doc then brought me back to Dad.  “Let’s take a look at what we intend to do for your son, Mr. Mitchell.”
     “Very well.  Come with me.”
     When we came to the area of the hospital for treating spinal cord injuries, I was in awe.  It looked almost exactly like the football training room at school.  “Man, this is cool,” I said excitedly.  “It’s like I’m in training again.”
     “Right, Josh,” Dr. Stansbury noted.  “Except in this case, the training will be to get you back on your feet and…onto the playing field again.”
     “Yeah, I can’t wait.”  I acted excited, but only to fool Dad into granting permission into letting me go through with the therapy.
     Dad’s eyes lit up like Christmas.  “Dr. Stansbury, you’ve gotten me convinced.  I’ll let you go through with the treatment.”
     “Very well.  Come into my office and I’ll set up the paperwork.  Josh, why don’t you stay here awhile and look around?”
     “Sure thing, Doc.  I like this place.”  I really meant it, too.  There were exercise bicycles, a spot where I could take slow and steady steps, and the like.  This gave me hope.  It was just what I needed to hopefully be back on my feet again.  Of course, I knew it was gonna be hard when I would have to tell Dad I didn’t want to play anymore.
     One of the nurses came up to me.  “So, you’re the latest victim of spinal cord injury.”
     “Yeah, I guess I am.  Is it true that people can walk again, even after getting a pretty bad injury like this?”
     “It depends on how physically fit you are, how mentally prepared you are, since we won’t go easy on you, and the most important thing of all:  sheer determination.  If you want it bad enough, you’ll have to work for it.”
     I nodded my head.  “I like it already.  It sounds like getting ready for a game.”
     “Right.  So, when will you start the treatment?”
     “If Dad signs those papers, I’ll start as early as next week.  I don’t mind the tough treatment, either.  I’m used to that from Dad already.”
     I then turned my eyes to face out the window.  I suddenly noticed a light not too far away.  “What is that?” I whispered.  “It’s like he’s staying with me or something.”
     The top part of the light moved in a vertical motion, seemingly agreeing with me or something.
     In the doctor’s office, Dad looked over all the papers.  “There’s no chance for something to go wrong, is there?”
     “No.  The success rate here is 97%.  Believe me, nothing can go wrong.”
     “Wonderful.”  Dad signed the contract, making it official.  “There.  Now, when will you start?”
     “Next week.  We want Josh to get used to the wheelchair for about a week, and then we’ll get to it.  In the meantime, I’ll see to it insurance covers everything for him.”
     “Excellent.  It’ll be nice to see my son make me proud on the field again.”
     Dad then came by to take me home.  “Come on, son.  Let’s get you home so you can get used to things.”
     “Wait a sec, what about the house?  I can’t get in with the wheelchair.”
     Dr. Stansbury walked up and said, “We’ll set you up with a ramp so you’ll have easy access to the house.”
     “And I’ll take your things from your room on the second floor and move them to the first,” Dad added.
     I can’t believe Dr. Stansbury pulled it off, I thought.  Dad actually thinks I’ll be playing football again.  Oh, well, I can’t wait to start the therapy next week.
     We got outside and noticed a new van.  “What is this?” I asked curiously.
     Dr. Stansbury laughed and answered, “This is a special van.  It’s been equipped with a special elevator to get you in and out while in your wheelchair.  What do you think?”
     “I like it already,” I said.
     “Well I don’t,” Dad said.  “I’d rather take him in the Saab.”
     “Mr. Mitchell, the Saab isn’t fit to the specifications.  You have to use the van to get him everywhere.”
     “Fine, whatever.  Just hand me the keys.”
     Dad opened the van and used the elevator to get me into the vehicle.
     As he drove off, Dad said, “I don’t think this van or the ramp for the home are going to be necessary, but it’s doctor’s orders, so I’ll go along with it until you don’t need that stupid-looking wheelchair anymore.”
     I considered saying something to Dad, but I left it be because I had to keep him thinking I was going to play football next year.
     When we got home, the rest of the football team and the cheerleaders were already at the house with a “Welcome Home” banner.  “I don’t believe it,” I said in awe.  “They didn’t forget about me at all!”
     After I exited from the van via the elevator, I rolled up to my fellow teammates.  “You guys…you didn’t have to do this for me.”
     “Yeah, we did,” said Billy.  “You’ve been on our minds since that accident last week on the field.”
     “Aw, thanks everybody.  That was thoughtful of you all.”
     Coach Simpkins then walked up to me with a smile.  “Hey, Josh.  How are you feeling?”
     “Okay, I guess.  At least I get to use this way-cool wheelchair like I’m in a video game.  The doctor said he’ll start my therapy as of next week.”
     “Terrific.  I know you want a chance to walk again.  Oh, and guess what?  Coach Jones from Bannister’s here, too.”
     “Really?”
     The coach of the rival team paced to me with a sober look on his face.  “Josh, I want to apologize for what happened to you last Friday night.  I hope you’re not—”
     I shook my head.  “Coach Jones, I’m not upset with you in the least.  It was a legitimate play, and it was an accident.”
     When Dad heard about Bannister’s coach being there, he went into a rage and jumped on the coach, forcing both to fall to the ground.  “Accident my foot!  You purposely sent the player on my son so he could never play again!  I oughtta finish you off!”
     Simpkins pulled Dad off Coach Jones.  “Stop it, Mr. Mitchell.  It really was an accident.”
     “He’s right,” Billy defended.  “The play was legal.”
     “Shut up, Wilder!” Dad yelled.  “Where’s that player?  I’ll take care of him, too!”
     “I said stop it, now!” Simpkins said.  “What is your problem?”
     “My son is supposed to follow in my footsteps, and that stupid Bannister player has destroyed that dream!”
     “Dad, just quit it!” I yelled angrily.  “I will choose the way I live my life!  You want to know something?  Dr. Stansbury and I tricked you into thinking I was going to play next season, but I won’t be.  Even if I do walk again, I can’t ever play football again!  Maybe it’s better off for me, because football is not my sole purpose in life.”
     When I told him the truth, Dad became super-furious.  “You lied to me, your own father!?  How dare you do this to me!  You are supposed to be the best football player since my days!”  He then got loose from Coach and went at me.  “I’ll make you pay for doing this to me!”
     Fortunately, two of the linebackers were able to tackle him down before he reached my throat.
     I was so lucky that most of the team and the cheerleaders were also among my closest friends.  “Whew, thanks, guys.”
     “No problem,” said Jeremy Barlow, the state’s top linebacker.  “You’re going through enough right now.  As far as we’re concerned, you’ll always be a member of the team, no matter what.”
     “That’s right,” agreed varsity cheerleading captain Sandra Carter.  “We’re just happy to see you back, even if it’s not on your two feet right now.”
     I felt so good because I was surrounded by friends…true friends.  “Thanks, everybody.  I’ll be back in school on Monday, that’s a promise.”
     Everybody cheered me on about that idea, everybody except Dad, that is.  He got up and growled as angrily as a grizzly bear.
     Meanwhile, behind the bushes of my house, the light was there again, watching me.  What did it want with me, though?
     I didn’t know what to think because I had my angry father and this weird light.  Was the light wanting to help me or hurt me?  I just wasn’t sure of myself.

     A few hours later, after supper, Dad and I were in the house.  As I had fun rolling around the floor in my wheelchair, my father sat in the recliner pretending to read the newspaper.  In reality he was sulking badly because I was surrounded by people who liked me for being me, not being the star football player.  On the other hand, Dad was determined not to let Dr. Stansbury get away with lying to him.
     “That stupid doctor’s gonna pay!”  He then busted the door open and got to the special van.  Taking off in a screech, he basically left me alone in the house.
     I opted to take advantage of Dad’s anger and got out of the house myself to think.  It’s a good thing I had the spare house keys, or someone would have easily broken in.
     I wheeled my way around town, and people stood up and clapped, as though I was someone special.  I heard people yelling, “You’re the best, Josh,” along with things about being blessed, standing tall, and having courage.  All those words really moved me because they understood me for being me.
     Going to the football field, I started putting my face down because that field was where I had lost my ability to walk.  I decided to come to the exact spot where the hit occurred.  “Why bother?  Dad’s probably trying to stop Dr. Stansbury and tear up the paperwork.  Then, he gets a clear shot at labeling me a…complete loser.”
     “Don’t bet on that, pal,” said a voice literally out of nowhere.
     “That voice…I know I’ve heard it before, but where?”
     “You probably heard me in the hospital the night you were paralyzed.”
     Then, before my own eyes, I saw that weird light coming towards me.  I was starting to get really scared at this point.  “Who—who are you?  What do you want with me!?”
     Soon enough, the strange light finally came up to me and materialized into what look liked a person, but I could see right through it.  It looked like he had the number 68 on his jersey.  “Wait a minute…number 68?  You…you’re the one who—”
     “Died on the football field?” he said.  “That’s me, all right.  Name’s Jamal Wilkinson.”
     “I know who you are—I mean, were.  You were one of the best wide receivers in the state when you…you know.”
     “Yeah.  Just like you, the play was legit.  And, like you, the play was at the 20-yard line.”
     “Wow, I never thought I’d see you.  Um, no offense, but, why are you here?  Most ghosts have some kind of unfinished business or something, right?”
     “Yeah, and mine has to do with both your father and my father.”
     “Your father?  What do you mean?”  I was getting very curious about this story, because it almost mirrored what I was going through myself.
     “It’s like this.  My father is also a former pro player.”
     “Wait…I know who he is!  That’s Rodney Wilkinson, who went by the nickname ‘The Rod.’  Am I right?”
     “Yeah, exactly.  My dad was so determined to make me follow in his footsteps, like what your father’s done for the past few years, right?”
     I nodded in agreement.  “Right.  I know Dad means well, but I just don’t know what to do to make him understand me.”
     “That was the same way between my dad and me, until that fateful play on the football field.  I found a hole in the defense and tried to make a run for it, but then someone gave me a side shot, just like what you had.”
     “What…what happened?”
     “That shot severed my jugular vein, and I lost so much blood.  When I got to the hospital, it was too late for me.  I knew Dad was devastated I died.  He finally realized he had gone way too far in trying to make me achieve his dreams instead of letting me decide for myself.  Now, it’s happened to you, too.  A young man with a promising future, cut short by a spinal cord injury.”
     “Maybe so, Jamal, but I have a chance to walk again.  An 8% chance is better than nothing.”
     “Do you really stand a chance, though?”
     “I do if I don’t quit on myself.  In the meantime, though, I hope Dr. Stansbury is gonna be all right.”

     My father wasted no time in finding the doctor-on-call, Dr. Stansbury.  “You stupid liar!  You said my son would be able to play again, but he told me you and he lied to me about it!”  He then grabbed the doctor’s shirt.  “What do you have to say for yourself!?”
     “What I have to say, Mr. Mitchell,” started the doctor, trying to respond, “is that you are a completely selfish father!  You only want your son to play football, no matter how severe his injury is!  He stands with an 8% chance of ever being able to walk again, and all you can think about is his career as a pro football superstar or something!”
     “That’s what he wants to be—”
     “No, that’s what you want him to be.  You won’t allow him to decide for himself what his dreams and ambitions are.  Every child has the right to dream.”
     “Maybe, but his destiny is clear…being the number one draft pick after two years of college!  Now, where’s that paperwork?  I want it now!”
     “Fat chance.  It’s already been processed, and Josh will start next week, whether you like it or not.”
     “Then I’ll send you to the medical board to revoke your license!”
     “I already talked to the board.  They said considering your record with your son, it was perfectly justified to lie to you about Josh being able to play football again.  Josh is looking forward to starting next week here.”
     “Over my dead body, Stansbury!” Dad yelled.  “You’re nothing more than a first class jerk!  You’re as much a loser as my son is!”
     After he finally let go of the doc, Dad stormed out of the hospital and headed home.
     When he did get home, though, he discovered I was gone.  “Josh!  Where the heck are you!?”  He ran outside the house.  “JOSH!”
     Next, Dad ran out to the van and started driving around like he had a grudge against everyone he saw.  “Get out of my way!  Where’s my son!?”
     At the field, I was still talking to the ghost.  “What happened to your mother?”
     “She and Dad divorced when I was a kid because she didn’t like the fact he was trying to push me into playing football.  A couple of years later, she…committed suicide because everyone kept associating her as ‘the ex-wife of the Rod.’”
     “I’m so sorry,” I said sadly.  “Your family life was shattered badly because of football?”
     “Yeah.  I want to help you get your father to understand football is a great game, but not a way of life.  That’s why I’m here, the unfinished business.”
     “I gotcha.  I want to watch cartoons on Thanksgiving, but Dad forces me to watch the games from Detroit and Dallas.  It’s too much for me.  He even gets on my case because he doesn’t think homework is as important as football.  Sorry, but if I want a beeline for valedictorian next year, I have to keep my grades up.”
     “I wanted to do the same thing,” Jamal stated, “but it was the same thing with my dad.  He wanted me to play football and not even worry about grades.  Problem is, most colleges won’t accept a player who doesn’t have good academic standings nowadays.”
     “Right.  System here changed to allow student athletes to maintain grades.  In fact, while I can’t play football anymore, maybe I can finally join some clubs.  I know the Key Club’s got some openings, so maybe I can get in there and do something good for others.”
     Jamal wanted to say something else, but then we both heard the screeching wheels of the van.
     “Oh, no,” I said, “Dad looks furious.  I left the house, and he’s gonna be yelling at me like a baseball umpire trying to handle a big brawl.”
    Dad came up and grabbed me by the shirt, which pulled me out of my wheelchair.  “You conniving monster!  You and that dumb doctor think you have a chance to walk again!?  I’ll show you!”  He then threw me to the ground.  “I’ll make sure you never walk again so I can call you the loser you really are!”  He then turned to the wheelchair.  “See how you like it when you can no longer get around like the nobody you deserve to be!”
     Jamal had seen and heard enough of Dad’s garbage talk.  His eyes turned red with anger.  “You stop that, now!”
     Dad was about to put his hands around my throat when he suddenly stopped.  “What the—?  I can’t move!  What’s going on here!?”
     Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the ghost’s anger rapidly getting worse.  Wow, I never knew ghosts could be so moody, but he’s really trying to help me.
     “How dare you treat your son like a doll!” yelled Jamal.  Giving Dad an intense stare, the ghost moved Dad up into the air.
     “Who—who are you!?” Dad yelled with growing fear.
     “I am Jamal Wilkinson.  You remember my father, Rodney Wilkinson?”
     “The Rod,” he whispered.  “No, it couldn’t be you.  You…you died on the football field four years ago!  How can this be possible?  It must be some sort of special effects trick…played by Josh’s loser friends!”
     “Oh, I assure, you, Mr. Mitchell, this is no trick.  I really am a ghost, and I have come to protect your son from the likes of you!”  His rage intensified on Dad.  “Your son is not you, and I hope he’ll never become anything like you!  You’re no man…you’re a monster!”
     As Dad went higher into the sky and started moving around, he really became scared.  “No, stop!”
     “I won’t rest in peace until you recognize your son’s needs in his own life!  I came back from the grave to help Josh Mitchell, and I will keep my word until he’s able to walk again!  Only when you do will I leave you alone!  Oh, and don’t even try to fake your way through it, either.  We ghosts have a knack for knowing if you’re being true or not.”
     Me, I was on the ground, suddenly finding myself gasping for air.  “I…can’t…breathe!  Need…help…fast.”
     Luckily, someone who kept maintenance of the football field heard me screaming and went to the phone to call for an ambulance.  “Hurry, it’s Josh!  His father pulled him out of the wheelchair!”
      Jamal knew I needed help and was grateful someone did call the emergency.  “I’m gonna go for now, Mr. Mitchell, but you can bet I’ll be back again, making sure you don’t harm Josh or anyone else again!”  He then vanished without a trace.
     Dad fell to the earth after being airborne for about 10 minutes and 10 feet in the air.  Boy, that must have hurt when he landed on his butt.  Too bad I couldn’t laugh at the time.
     Despite having the pain, he came up to me and actually started kicking me!  “You loser!  That good-for-nothing spirit is not going to help you!”
     Breathing was getting harder for me, but I soon saw the paramedics arrive and rushing to my aid.
     One of the paramedics had to pull my father off me.  “What are you doing!?  You kick a man when he’s down?  You stay out of the way, Mister!”
     Dad struggled to break free from the grip.  “I’ll do whatever I want to my son!  He’s nothing more than a cheater, a liar, and a loser!  I’ll make sure he never walks again!”
     “Buddy, I hate to do this to you, but…”  The paramedic injected a sedative drug with a needle.  “This should keep you out for a while.”
     Dad instantly felt the effects of the drug and fell asleep almost immediately.
     When the paramedic then got to me, he became very concerned.  “Good Lord, it’s Josh Mitchell!  He can’t breathe!”
     They did everything to get me straightened out and back to the hospital to run tests on me to make sure my life wasn’t in any further danger from my father.
     A few minutes later, at the hospital, Dr. Stansbury ran the emergency tests and was able to stabilize my condition back to normal, well, for a paraplegic.
     I soon awakened in my hospital room again, with the doctor standing in front of me.  “What…what happened?”
     “Your father was kicking you around at the football field, so we had to get you back here and make sure you were all right.  Your vital signs have returned to normal.  You’re also very fortunate there was very little damage inflicted by your father’s kicking.”
     “Do…do I still have that 8% chance to walk again?”
     “Yes, you do.  I promise, we’ll start your treatment next week, no questions asked and no interference from your father.  He’s gone completely out of control because he feels his dreams for you were destroyed by what happened on the field last Friday night.  You’re very easy and outgoing, willing to try to get your life back.  As for your father, I just wish I knew what to do.”
     Don’t worry, I thought, I’ve got someone watching over me…someone determined not to let me suffer the same way he did when he was alive.
     “I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to report your father to the authorities.  He must learn his lesson now, or your chances of walking again will disappear.”
     “Well, what can I do, Doc?  I may not be able to go home now.”
     “Hmm, perhaps you should stay with someone else while you’re getting better.  Do you know anyone who would be able to handle a house guest for say, at least six months?”
     “Perhaps Billy Wilder and his family can take me in.  After all, Billy and I have known each other since we were kids.”
     “I’ll call and see if I can make arrangements.”  He left the room to make the telephone call.
     I was thinking about sleeping for a while when I saw Jamal’s ghost appear to my right.  “Hey, what are you doing here?”
     “Just wanted to check on you, pal,” he said.  “Besides, your dad’s still out from that drug.”
     “You mean, he’s still on the field?”
     “Yeah, and he should be getting picked up by the cops right about…now.”

     Sure enough, Dad was just awakening when he found himself surrounded by the police officers.
     “Okay, Mr. Mitchell, you’re under arrest for child abuse,” said one of the officers.  “How could you hurt your son when he’s been paralyzed!?  You don’t care about anything but yourself.”
     “Who—who called you?”
     “The maintenance man who keeps the field clean.  He saw you kicking your son and immediately called for paramedics and the police.”  The officer then read Dad his rights, handcuffed him again, and took him to jail for the second time in over a week.
     Dad had only one thought in mind.  Wherever Josh is right now, I’ll do whatever it takes to find him, along with everyone responsible for destroying his destiny.

     Back in the hospital, Jamal vanished as Dr. Stansbury came back into the room.  “Josh, I have two pieces of good news for you.  First, your father’s been taken into custody again.  Second, Billy and his family would love to welcome you as their house guest while you’re undergoing your therapy.  Sound good?”
     “You bet it does!” I said excitedly.  “How can I thank you, Doc?”
     “You don’t have to, Josh.  Just seeing you’re going to be safe through all this is all the thanks I need.  Now, I want to keep you here overnight for observation, but tomorrow, you’ll go home with Billy and his family.”
     “Wonderful, Doc.  I can’t wait.”
     “Sleep well, Josh.  Take care of yourself tonight.”
     “I will.  Good night, Doc.”
     I then went to sleep, knowing I would have to change surroundings for some time.  It was going to be worth it, though, since I didn’t have to hear Dad getting on my case at every possible turn.

     The next morning came, and after I was checked out to make certain my condition was still stable, the doctors sent me home with Billy and his family.  It was a lucky thing their home was just one story, as opposed to the two stories of my house.
     Billy said I could have his older sister’s room as my room for the time being.  Maggie was already in her sophomore year of college at the time and had her own dorm room.  I liked it, since there wasn’t an all-pink scheme like I thought there would be.  In fact, Maggie was very much a tomboy, which made the transition that much easier for me.
     “Billy, are you sure this is okay?”
     “Man, you’ve suffered too much because of your dad.  We’re gonna make sure you stay safe.  That’s a promise.”
     “Thanks, Billy.  You and your family are true lifesavers to me.”
     “No probs.  In fact, Mom and Dad get to escort us to school.  We still have our van, which can be used to help you with the wheelchair.”
     “Great, B-Man.  Least I’ll be able to get to school on Monday.”
     “Right.  Now, let’s have lunch.  I know you’re starving for some real food.”
     “Got that right, bro.  Let’s eat.”
     In no time, I felt like I was a member to a loving family, as opposed to my father’s methods of raising a child.
     Of course, through it all, I was gonna have some struggles, like therapy from the beginning, and constant reminders of the failure I had become in Dad’s eyes.
     Wait until you see what happened when I started that special therapy for Dr. Stansbury, because it was going to be a heck of a personal trial for Jamal, Dad, and me.

Proceed to the Conclusion!