"Charlie-"
"Shh."
I snapped my mouth shut and let him push me silently. He's currently driving the wheelchair I'm in. Yes, I'm that immature that I call it 'driving'.
I stared ahead and pointed at my bedroom door. "Just go right the-"
"Shhhhh..." He hissed as we entered my room. "Hold on, I'll carry you."
"Where's mom?" I whispered, "Is she here?"
"No, she's not." He whispered back, doing something with the wheelchair, and eventually, we came to a full stop.
It's not that I'm still living in my parents' house, actually, I have my own small apartment. But my mom insisted on me staying here so that she could help me, and I told her that I'd leave as soon as possible.
"Oh.." I stood up and limped toward my bed.
"Hey, hey, hey." He whispered, "I told you that I will carry you."
"And
