LJ Idol: Wheel of Chaos: "Second Chances"
Nov. 3rd, 2025 02:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
halfshellvenusSecond Chances
Idol Wheel of Chaos | Week 14, Story 1 | 1253 words
A nail is driven out by another nail
x-x-x-x-x
Lee woke up into excruciating brightness—white lights, white walls, white sheets. The room was hostile and glaring.
He couldn't remember exactly what had happened. One minute he’d been sitting at his desk holding a pen, and now he was here, wherever here was. And my god, he ached! He couldn't remember ever feeling pain like this before.
He’d never been so groggy, either. This wasn't like getting up in the morning—he was slow and stupid, and he could hardly move. Why wouldn't it go away? And why was he so tired? The room seemed to be fading away at the edges…
It was still bright the next time he woke up, and he still didn't know where he was. He could hardly think, and the pain was unbelievable. What the hell?
A bunch of people came in and out of the room, and from listening, Lee gathered that he was in the hospital and he'd had some sort of major reattachment surgery. No wonder things hurt!
It would be a long road back, they said, and moving would be hard at first. Lee soon discovered that was a huge understatement.
This thing called rehab sucked. It was so hard. Everything was kind of numb and tingly, and it didn't feel quite right. Mismatched nerve endings, the people said. Foreign material. He would adapt to it, but he had to give it time.
Well, it wasn't like he had a choice.
Lee worked and worked, day after day, slowly building strength. He still felt clumsy, but it was getting a little better. Everyone seemed pleased with how far he'd come, so he guessed he was doing pretty well? But it still didn't feel like his own body. He wondered if that would ever go away.
What if it was always like this? Like part of him didn't belong?
Well, he sure as hell wouldn't be fixing any lawnmowers anymore. They said that was how it had happened.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, they let him check out of the hospital. Lee had never been so glad to leave a place before.
But his happiness didn't last. Even being at home felt strange. Something was off about it. Maybe because something was off about him? Lee wondered if he would ever really feel normal again. What if he didn’t? What kind of life would that be?
There was still a lot of rehab to do, even at home. It was boring, but it got easier and easier as the weeks went by. Eventually, Lee could get his clothes on and make meals. He could even tie his shoes. And although it was a long time before he reached the point where the pain hardly ever bothered him anymore, that day did finally come.
When he could type on a keyboard, even if it was a little awkward, Lee was ready to return to the office. But he was surprised to discover that work was a little weird, too. His tasks weren't quite the same as before, not the ones he was used to doing. After a while, he started to notice that his coworker was getting all the real work. Shaking hands with key players, taking notes, writing reports. And Lee was just sitting there on the sidelines!
Sure, he would help type something up occasionally. But mostly he got called on to lift and carry things, which was complete waste of his skill set. He was being completely overlooked.
Lee raged and fumed about the unfairness of it all. What was happening? Was it punishment because he’d been out of commission for so long?
He tried to be patient, but it really got to him. He was so much more than this.
And then one day, Lee realized that he'd heard about this situation, even though he'd never lived it before. But now he knew it was true— in most cases, no one paid attention to the left hand at all!
It was infuriating. Lee was used to being the main guy, the one who was called upon to do all the important stuff. Now he was stuck on the arm of some right-handed bozo who virtually ignored him. And Lee was not used to playing second fiddle.
He started to slap food off the table, to show the bozo how he felt. He'd grab the TV remote at home and throw it across the room. He would let go of the face while the bozo was shaving, and let it fall right into the razor.
He knew he was being an asshole, and he didn't care. He was made for better things!
But it seemed like the more he acted up, the less he got to do. He found himself getting stuffed into pockets all the time, where he couldn't breathe. Sometimes the bozo even sat on him, which was the biggest insult of all.
Lee took to just randomly smacking the face, to see how it liked the abuse. Hah! Take that!
He got angrier and angrier. He punched the guy in the nose, and pulled his hair. He yanked on the guy’s tongue, which was gross, but it got the point across.
Then people started to make noises like, "Bodily Alienation" and "Evil Hand Syndrome." Who, him? Evil? That took a lot of nerve, after everything that had happened.
Well, fine. Lee decided it was better to be feared than ignored.
He pushed the chair out of the way that the bozo was about to sit in. He yanked the left shoe off and chucked it at the bozo's boss. Once, he even marched the bozo through the office, pulling him around by his own necktie.
Oh, yeah, Lee thought. How do you like being the chump?
Then suddenly, he found himself back in the hospital again. It was as bright and hostile as ever, and Lee desperately wanted out of there. What was happening?
People came into the room to talk about the situation. Lee wasn't quite sure what it all meant, but from what he could tell, it sounded like they were planning another surgery to disable some of the nerves that lead into him.
The hand would become non-functional, they said. Purely cosmetic.
What? But that would be a living death. Lee would be stuck just hanging off of the arm like a piece of dead meat.
The hell with that! he thought. No hand deserves a fate like that!
The people left the room, and the bozo cried. But Lee didn't feel sorry for him.
Instead, he waited and then he waited some more. The room got dark, and after a while, Lee heard the snores that meant the bozo was asleep. Now was his chance.
He didn't want to do it, but he didn't have a choice. Some things were worse than dying.
Lee crept across the bed and onto the bozo's leg. Then he made his way up to the chest and launched himself at the throat.
He choked the bozo's neck as hard as he could, thinking about the family dog he'd petted in his first owner's childhood, the LEGOs he'd put together, the baseballs he'd thrown. He recalled the first car he'd learned to drive, and writing tests in college, and stroking the face of his owner's wife. He remembered the babies he'd held, and the feeling of their child-sized hands in his.
He said goodbye to it all as he choked and choked until the darkness carried him away…
--/--
No poll this week, but all the entries are here.
Idol Wheel of Chaos | Week 14, Story 1 | 1253 words
A nail is driven out by another nail
x-x-x-x-x
Lee woke up into excruciating brightness—white lights, white walls, white sheets. The room was hostile and glaring.
He couldn't remember exactly what had happened. One minute he’d been sitting at his desk holding a pen, and now he was here, wherever here was. And my god, he ached! He couldn't remember ever feeling pain like this before.
He’d never been so groggy, either. This wasn't like getting up in the morning—he was slow and stupid, and he could hardly move. Why wouldn't it go away? And why was he so tired? The room seemed to be fading away at the edges…
It was still bright the next time he woke up, and he still didn't know where he was. He could hardly think, and the pain was unbelievable. What the hell?
A bunch of people came in and out of the room, and from listening, Lee gathered that he was in the hospital and he'd had some sort of major reattachment surgery. No wonder things hurt!
It would be a long road back, they said, and moving would be hard at first. Lee soon discovered that was a huge understatement.
This thing called rehab sucked. It was so hard. Everything was kind of numb and tingly, and it didn't feel quite right. Mismatched nerve endings, the people said. Foreign material. He would adapt to it, but he had to give it time.
Well, it wasn't like he had a choice.
Lee worked and worked, day after day, slowly building strength. He still felt clumsy, but it was getting a little better. Everyone seemed pleased with how far he'd come, so he guessed he was doing pretty well? But it still didn't feel like his own body. He wondered if that would ever go away.
What if it was always like this? Like part of him didn't belong?
Well, he sure as hell wouldn't be fixing any lawnmowers anymore. They said that was how it had happened.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, they let him check out of the hospital. Lee had never been so glad to leave a place before.
But his happiness didn't last. Even being at home felt strange. Something was off about it. Maybe because something was off about him? Lee wondered if he would ever really feel normal again. What if he didn’t? What kind of life would that be?
There was still a lot of rehab to do, even at home. It was boring, but it got easier and easier as the weeks went by. Eventually, Lee could get his clothes on and make meals. He could even tie his shoes. And although it was a long time before he reached the point where the pain hardly ever bothered him anymore, that day did finally come.
When he could type on a keyboard, even if it was a little awkward, Lee was ready to return to the office. But he was surprised to discover that work was a little weird, too. His tasks weren't quite the same as before, not the ones he was used to doing. After a while, he started to notice that his coworker was getting all the real work. Shaking hands with key players, taking notes, writing reports. And Lee was just sitting there on the sidelines!
Sure, he would help type something up occasionally. But mostly he got called on to lift and carry things, which was complete waste of his skill set. He was being completely overlooked.
Lee raged and fumed about the unfairness of it all. What was happening? Was it punishment because he’d been out of commission for so long?
He tried to be patient, but it really got to him. He was so much more than this.
And then one day, Lee realized that he'd heard about this situation, even though he'd never lived it before. But now he knew it was true— in most cases, no one paid attention to the left hand at all!
It was infuriating. Lee was used to being the main guy, the one who was called upon to do all the important stuff. Now he was stuck on the arm of some right-handed bozo who virtually ignored him. And Lee was not used to playing second fiddle.
He started to slap food off the table, to show the bozo how he felt. He'd grab the TV remote at home and throw it across the room. He would let go of the face while the bozo was shaving, and let it fall right into the razor.
He knew he was being an asshole, and he didn't care. He was made for better things!
But it seemed like the more he acted up, the less he got to do. He found himself getting stuffed into pockets all the time, where he couldn't breathe. Sometimes the bozo even sat on him, which was the biggest insult of all.
Lee took to just randomly smacking the face, to see how it liked the abuse. Hah! Take that!
He got angrier and angrier. He punched the guy in the nose, and pulled his hair. He yanked on the guy’s tongue, which was gross, but it got the point across.
Then people started to make noises like, "Bodily Alienation" and "Evil Hand Syndrome." Who, him? Evil? That took a lot of nerve, after everything that had happened.
Well, fine. Lee decided it was better to be feared than ignored.
He pushed the chair out of the way that the bozo was about to sit in. He yanked the left shoe off and chucked it at the bozo's boss. Once, he even marched the bozo through the office, pulling him around by his own necktie.
Oh, yeah, Lee thought. How do you like being the chump?
Then suddenly, he found himself back in the hospital again. It was as bright and hostile as ever, and Lee desperately wanted out of there. What was happening?
People came into the room to talk about the situation. Lee wasn't quite sure what it all meant, but from what he could tell, it sounded like they were planning another surgery to disable some of the nerves that lead into him.
The hand would become non-functional, they said. Purely cosmetic.
What? But that would be a living death. Lee would be stuck just hanging off of the arm like a piece of dead meat.
The hell with that! he thought. No hand deserves a fate like that!
The people left the room, and the bozo cried. But Lee didn't feel sorry for him.
Instead, he waited and then he waited some more. The room got dark, and after a while, Lee heard the snores that meant the bozo was asleep. Now was his chance.
He didn't want to do it, but he didn't have a choice. Some things were worse than dying.
Lee crept across the bed and onto the bozo's leg. Then he made his way up to the chest and launched himself at the throat.
He choked the bozo's neck as hard as he could, thinking about the family dog he'd petted in his first owner's childhood, the LEGOs he'd put together, the baseballs he'd thrown. He recalled the first car he'd learned to drive, and writing tests in college, and stroking the face of his owner's wife. He remembered the babies he'd held, and the feeling of their child-sized hands in his.
He said goodbye to it all as he choked and choked until the darkness carried him away…
--/--
No poll this week, but all the entries are here.
no subject
Date: 2025-11-07 08:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-11-07 09:13 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for reading and commenting!