You wake up.

It's another day in this place, and you - you're tired, but you know you can't just stay in bed all day, so you resolve to get up. It takes you a moment, because the pillows and blankets are really more comfortable than they have any right to be.

You sit up, swing your legs over the side of the bed, and stand -

"AUGH!"

And fall, because it isn't legs, plural, anymore. It's leg. One leg. You're missing one of your legs, and you really don't have anyone to blame for it but yourself. ...yourself, and the hateful situation you went through, that wretched creature that got ahold of you, but -

No. It's your own fault. Your actions led to that particular outcome, and you shouldn't blame others for it.

One must take responsibility for the things they do, after all.

Gritting your teeth, you use your arms to push yourself back up into a sitting position, then hold onto your bed to keep your balance as you get up on one leg. You have the feeling you'll get scolded if you get caught hopping around, so you'll have to figure out something to use as a crutch. But you'll figure it out. You've always been more resourceful than most people give you credit for, you remind yourself.

Even your brother would be astounded - and you hope, a little impressed? - if he saw what you had accomplished without him.

...one step at a time. This missing leg won't keep you down for long.

You won't let it.