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: If you're wondering, yes, I can have sex. I just can't catch a cab.
: I don't remember *any* of what I'm about to tell you. I only know what the police and coroner's report said. But on the morning of April 5th, 1989, a high-speed car crash occurred, on a rural highway in upstate New York. There were 2 fatalities: my mother died on impact, my father died of hemorrhaging from a torn pulmonary vein and massive internal injuries. I'm listed as a male survivor, approximately 8 years of age. We were going down a road. Nobody had said much of anything yet. The road was supposed to have been longer...
: I had always gotten stares. You know, the ones people give you, or avoid giving you. But once in a while, wheeling in and out of the curve of people, I'd catch someone looking at me. And I'd see something else in their eyes - jealousy. They were jealous of me, jealous that I got to *sit down* and they didn't. Does that sound crazy to you?
: Welcome to hell. I'll introduce you to the staff.
: People who get off on braces and wheel chairs are called devotés. They're a joke, they're the bottom rung. Above them are the pretenders. They wear the braces, they push the wheels, but they don't *belong* to their chairs. Still, if they want to fantasize, that's their choice. Then there are the wannabes. You saw how crazy they are. Isaac
: What makes you different than a wannabe or a pretender? Fiona
: I'm a unique case. I don't want to be paralyzed. Isaac
: You don't? Fiona
: I am already paralyzed. I'm just trapped in a walking person's body...
: Should I call 911? But then what would I say, "come quickly I'm being healed"?
: Did you ever sneeze and feel like it was a second chance?
: [about his shoes
] What does it feel like when you take them off. Isaac
: Like you've just taken a deep breath, but before you can exhale somebody steals it away.