Tuesday, February 5, 2013

My Sixteenth Wish

Author's Note: This is a story written by Annika, Kathryn and I.  We were trying to use good vocabulary and write sentences that make you picture the moment or place in your mind. 
_____________________________________________________

I race over to the elevator, shutting myself inside away from the music and chaos of the party. I punch the button with a click on the number 5. My stomach rises smoothly with the elevator, and when the door opens next, I’m in my bedroom.  I trot into the room, with my fancy wall window on the far side, and my touch screen wall to the left.  My bed rests in the center of the room by the window, moonlight stretching across both the bed and floor, creating unique patterns that remind me of the waves on the ocean shore.

Surrounding my bed is a blue transparent curtain that drapes from the high ceiling above. My walk in closet that is about the size of a small apartment is to the right, beautiful glass doors separating me from my extravagant shoe collection and clothes. The window’s soft curtains drift slowly to the rhythm of the salty ocean waves that roll in and out of the beach below.  I open the crystal glass door and step out onto my balcony, admiring the party below, with lanterns hanging from stilts in the sand, a loud chattering almost drowning out the music that booms down below. I decide to heat things up a little bit, and reach over to the side table for my disco ball. I slowly lower it through the trapdoor of my balcony just as I hear people start to chant my name.

“Kennedy! Kennedy!” It sounds like sweet music to my ears. I flip the switch and the disco ball lights up, sending slivers of sparkling light down. I flash a quick smile at my crowd and begin to make my way back down to the heart of the party. The elevator doors slide open, inviting me in. I push the number 1 back down to the main floor. As the doors swing open I hear the parents chatting around the dining room table. They are laughing and discussing who knows what. I fly past them hoping they won’t stop me for a hello. I grab a platter of snacks and drinks and head down the row of stone stairs outside. The rocks on the pathway outside cools my warm bare feet. I see waves of kids rushing everywhere and bumping into me left and right.

“Hey, Kennedy,” someone yells to me. I smile and keep moving towards the sound system, booming with tunes. I see Chad resting his arm on the speakers talking to Ally.  

“Hey guys!” I grin.

“Oh, hi Kennedy,” they say almost simultaneously. I grab Chad’s hand and he reaches down to give me a quick peck on the cheek. Inside, my heart is pounding with the music. This night couldn’t get any better, I think to myself.

An upbeat song is playing throughout the sound sytem.

“Wanna dance?” Chad asks me. I nod because that’s the best I can get out as a yes. My nerves are really killing me.

“Okay,” I respond, dancing and swaying along to the music.  

 All too soon, the night comes to an end, the party no longer in full swing.

“Bye, thanks for coming, have a great night,” I say to everyone as they file out the door.  It is
about 2:30 in the morning, and I decide to let my parents clean up the mess and head to bed.

“How was your party honey?” my mom asks me just as I begin shut the front door.


“It was pretty fun,” I answer.  

“Well that’s good!” she cheers.  I roll my eyes and walk around her, and head up the stairs.  

When the elevator comes to a stop at my room, the doors open, and I see something I didn't expect.

“Ally?” I ask.  “Why are you still here?”

Ally is laying on my bed, tossing one of my volleyballs up and down.  “Oh, I just figured I’d hang here for a while.”

My dad knocks on my door.  “Come in,” I call out.  He slowly opens the door and peeks into my room.  

“What’s Ally doing here?” he asks.

“She’s sleeping over dad, duh,” I tell him.

“But we have plans tomorrow,”

“But I don’t care,” I respond. I am not taking no for an answer.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

He leaves the room, giving up any chance of winning this one over me. He should know better, I think.
“Are you sure it’s okay that I stay?” asks Ally.

“It’s fine,” I assure her, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Alright,” Ally replies, but I can tell she’s kind of sceptical.  

“So, on a scale of one to ten, how was this party?” I start, and she smiles knowingly. Once she tells me, it will become gossip. And then I will be even more popular, while the people who weren’t invited will be even more lame. It’s just the way things work I guess.

“Eight and a half,” she says. “The half point is from the disco ball, that was a nice touch,” she pauses, then picks up her phone and begins to spread the news to everyone on her cell phone's contacts.

I sit back and begin to think about the night. Eight and a half? Really? I think. An eight  and a half isn’t that bad, but for me, it is a bit of a downer. I have had parties that are nines and above, not eight and a half!  Ally’s phone snaps shut and she looks up at me.

“What’s wrong?” she asks tilting her head to try to understand me better.

“Oh, sorry. And nothing,” I say. “Tonight was awesome,” I smile.

* * * * * * * * * *

I wake up with Ally snoring beside me rustling in her sleep. I step down from my king size bed and stretch my arms when Ally flips on her side and flutters open her dreary eyes. She grins, picks up a pillow and launches it at my head. We fall to the floor dying with laughter. When we finally catch our breath, I get up and my mind starts to wander back to last night. I slide open the doors to my balcony and step outside with Ally behind me. The salty, crisp morning breeze drifts up to where we are.

“Ugh, what is that fishy smell? Gross!” Ally spits out snapping me out of my daydream.
      
I don’t mind the smell, but with Ally, acting like it didn’t matter wouldn’t be right.

“Eww!” I say and plug my nose, even though I am dieing for a breath of the fresh air.

“Run for it!” Ally screams and we both bolt for the door. We collapse on the beautiful floor of my room, and burst out laughing once more. Suddenly Ally sits up straight, an idea plopped into her mind.

“You know, for your party this weekend, you should rent out the Laser Tag Arcade,” she murmurs, her eyes glazed with the idea. I can’t help but laugh at her randomness.

“Where did that amazing idea come from?” I ask, because it is a pretty good  idea, and very do-able, but I can’t imagine where she got the inspiration.

“Can’t a girl ever have a good idea!” Laughing, I grab her phone, and roll away, flipping through her text messages one by one, seeing what she has been texting, as she tackles me, screaming. I hide underneath my bed, dodging Ally’s swiping hands. I flip through the messages one by one, making sure that I have all of the same invitations to parties as she does. I do, yet on her Instagram she has a post about Laser Tagging. I smile, and then slide her phone out from underneath the bed.

“You little-” she breaks off as we hear the ding of the elevator. Ally and I dive for my closet, and have just locked ourselves in when I hear the elevator click open. Now I must explain, my closet isn’t really a closet, it is more like a room: with the same sea view on the far side of the wall, racks and racks of clothes on the left side, a small coffee area by the window wall, and a few couches and coffee tables facing the window. Ally and I laugh softly as we run across my closet  to the far back corner. Throwing ourselves  behind a sofa, we hear my parents try to open the door. I hear their footsteps fade quietly as they give up and go back downstairs.

Ally and I decide we should have breakfast sooner or later, so we take the stairs down to the kitchen. May, our personal chef, has cooked us up a hot breakfast of pancakes, waffles, oatmeal, bacon, sausage, basically anything you would want to eat for a morning meal. We quickly chow down our food realizing that it’s Monday morning and we have school.  We sprint back up to my room and throw on our clothes and backpacks, I guess Ally figured she’d be sleeping over the night of the party and brought along her stuff. I hear my mom yell goodbye as I sprint out the door with Ally, Chad waiting at the bottom of our driveway. Ally and I put on our sunglasses and we’re off. When Ally’s favorite song comes on the radio, I crank up the music and we both sing at the top of our lungs, laughing at how bad we know we both are.

He pulls into his usual parking spot, opens the door, and hops out. I push open the backdoor, and jump out, Ally following.  I walk with Ally toward the front doors of our school, excited and mad at the same time for the start of a brand new day, and I notice Chad isn’t with us.  I turn back and see he’s leaning on his car with his little posse of friends.

I take a deep breath, and push open the doors.  Everyone stops their conversations when they hear the noise of the doors, and they all turn to stare.  

The crowd of kids back up toward their lockers, giving me a wide path to mine.  I walk down the path for ten feet or so, until I reach my locker.  When I do, everyone carries on with their normal morning routines. Jesse, basically my best guy friend, walking down the hallway toward my locker, probably ready to assist me in my daily routine like he does every morning. I wave to Ally as she leaves to go to her locker on the other side of the building.  I twist the combination lock on my locker, opening to reveal all of my organized books and folders.  I grab my science book and folder, closing my locker door to find Jesse standing next to my locker, grinning.  

“Well morning to you Sunshine!” he yells to me.

“Would you like me to carry your books Kennedy?” he offers.  I smile.

“Sure,” I say, handing my books over.  He takes them gratefully.

“What class will you be attending first hour this beloved morning?” he asks.  

“Science,” I reply, pointing at my textbook.

“Oh right, of course,” he says, shaking his head.  “I’m really losing it these days, Kennedy.”

I laugh, and he leads me up the stairs to the science room, just as the first bell starts to ring.

The day seems to go by in a minute, all of my classes just a blur.  The last school bell echos through the halls, and all the kids jolt up in their desks and dash out the door.  I gather my books and put them neatly in my bag, and that’s when I feel a tap on my shoulder.  I spin around.

“Hi Sarah,” I say with a smile.  “Are you excited for the volleyball game tonight?”

“Yes!  I can’t wait!  We play one of the best high school teams in Southern California and I bet you are going to do amazing!” she exclaims.

I blush.  It was quite true though, I am the captain and star player on our team.  We’ve  won all of our games, and winning this one would declare us Volleyball Champions of Southern California.  
“Well, see you at volleyball,” Sarah adds, beginning to walk toward the door,  ready for the excitement the night would hold.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Got it!” Callie yells as an overhand serve comes over from the other side. She lightly bumps the volleyball, and in an instant, Rachel runs up and cleanly sets the ball. The volleyball soars through the air, the blur of green, gold and white coming closer to me. I prepare to spike, my left hand sticking out and my right hand touching the back of my head near my right ear. The ball is coming closer, and when its just a few feet above my head, I pull my right hand down and swing with full force at the ball.  The impact is hard, and the volleyball flies over the net, hitting the floor just inbounds.

“Point!” the ref calls motioning at our side of the net. The crowd goes wild after my hit and cheers my name. I smile and run to my position on the court as Amy serves it over and hard. The other team sets up the ball and the outside hitter approaches and swings just as hard as I did, this time landing on the floor of our side of the net. The fans from the other team cheer wildly, and the game is starting to get uncomfortably close.

We rally back and forth, each team getting their chance in the spotlight after winning a close point. It’s 13-12 in the last game of the match and we are down by one. The serve comes over and our back row easily handles the pass up to  the setter. Rachel positions herself perfectly under the ball to give me an awesome set. I don’t even have to think as I approach the ball, knowing I will be able to win my team another point. I swing and hit the ball just as the two blockers from the other team jump up in unison. They barely get their hands on it, but that’s all they need to keep the ball from coming over. Tweet! The ref motions for a point to be rewarded to the other team as I look over in awe. What just happened? I think to myself.

14-12. We have to win this point or the match is over. Serve, pass, pass...set. We gave the opponent a free ball but at least it’s over the net. The other team miscommunications and the ball drops on their side of the floor, each player thinking the other was going for it. Yes! I’m up to serve and I ace it over. I celebrate with my team, but I know it’s not over yet. We still have to win one more point. I give them a pretty easy ball. One of their hitters comes straight down on the ball but Amy gets to it and passes right to Rachel. Rachel of course sets it to me, but this time I’m nervous. I pull my hand back and swing as hard as I can. The ball shoots over the net. The other team’s libero goes for it but misses! We won!

The crowd cheers and shouts so loud my head pounds. My teammates hug me and lift me up. Fans rush onto the court to congratulate us and I try to capture the moment because it’s one I never want to forget. Chad and his friends decide to take the team out for dinner afterwards. As usual, we plan to order burgers and ice cream at the parlor downtown. Everyone’s in a really good mood and so am I.  I tell Chad to wait for me in the car. As I wash my hands with my personalized sanitizer, I snatch my purse, walk quickly towards the door, stumbling over a few chairs on the way.  

I push open the doors --  Chad’s rusty black Ford is parked in front of the building.  Placing my most radiant smile onto my face, I find his handsome one in the front window, and I speed walk towards his car. I make sure that I am walking and not running, because Ally and I made a pact about that years ago. I mean, let’s face it, sweaty hands and neck along with a red face and heavy breathing aren't  exactly attractive. I make it over to Chad’s car, and open the passenger door smoothly, slamming it behind me as I swing myself up and in.

“Hey,” he says as he barely glances over at me. He starts up the rusty engine, and I frown.

“When are you going to get a new car?” I ask because lately it has really been getting on my nerves, that old thing.


He punches the key a few times, his face getting red with anger. Finally the truck starts and the loud hum of the engine falls in sync with my pounding heart.  I am pulled out of my daze as Chad pulls into the parlor. Smiling, I grab my purse and bag, jumping out of Chad’s truck before he realizes it. I am very close to running as I come to the door of the parlor, telling Chad that I am just going to quick change. He shakes his head and  knows that just a sec in girl world, means about ten minutes. On the way in, a couple of the weirdo kids from school are hanging around the entrance to Benny’s. Snorting, I roll past them and shove my way into the bathroom.

Walking very quickly, with my duffel bag in hand, turning towards the door with an image of a 50’s waitress sticker pasted on it. I walk in to see Ally, Rachel, Amy, Callie and Sarah already sitting at the booth they picked out in the corner of the diner. I wave and dart into the bathroom -- not wanting anyone to see me sweaty and gross. I take a stall and slip on my new sparkle jeans and PINK sweatshirt. I pull my makeup case out of the bag and search for the mascara. It takes time and precision to look as good as I do. I walk out.

“Hey Kennedy, you in there?” shouts Rachel, her fists pounding on the door.  

“Just a sec,” I reply, trying to hurry.

I finish getting ready, and I quickly pack all my things back into the duffel.  I push open the stall door, and walk out of the bathroom into the restaurant.   

“Hey guys,” I say sliding into the booth next to Callie.

“Hey Kennedy,” they all answer in unison.  I grin as I open a menu and the waiter appears at our table.

“What can I get you?” he asks, pen and notepad in hand.  Snapping the menu shut, I clear my throat to order.

“I’ll have the usual,” I tell him, “The one sixth pound double cheese burger, with everything and an extra large fry.” Everyone nods, and the waiter jots down the 13 similar orders. We finish off our burgers and the boys decide to buy us milkshakes. We take them to go.

“I’ll take you home Kennedy,” smiles Chad.  I grin in return, following him out the door to the car.  It was lightly raining, so Chad takes off his jacket and hands it to me.

I laugh and hop in to the front seat of the truck.

“Here’s an idea. You wanna drive?” asks Chad motioning for me to take the wheel.

“Yes! Oh my god yes!” I squirm over and do a spot switch with Chad and slip into the driver’s seat. I know somewhat how to drive but not very well. I turn the key in the ignition and feel the engine rev. I back out of the parking lot and wave to my friends laughing at the sight of me driving a car.

I like the feeling. The cool leather of the steering wheel rests on my palms. I sit back and take a deep breath. Chad turns on the radio and our favorite song is on so he turns it up, making the truck vibrate with the bass. I sing loud with Chad.  We’re both wailing and can’t stop laughing.

The truck starts to swerve but I ignore it. I have one hand on the wheel as I look over to Chad and sing the last lyric of the song, “And it will be, forever.” Suddenly, the truck flies off to the left into the oncoming traffic. I scream but I’m not sure if it actually comes out or not. The truck’s wheels snap sideways and we fly and flip through the air. Everything seems to be in slow motion. I have just a split second to realize what’s happening. Chad lets out a deep moan and I feel the car slam down on the ground. My world goes black.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day I wake up in a bleak hospital room. My eyes flutter open but they’re the only things that seem to want to move. My body feels stiff --  my head is pounding. I attempt to make a sound but nothing comes out. I wiggle my body in anger but it refuses to budge.

My mom comes into the room, her face pale and bags under her eyes.  She walks up to my bed, sorrow in her eyes.  She brushes back the flyaway strands of hair from my face, and kisses me on the forehead.  

She looks at the doctor, who nods.  She silently walks out of the room, my dad waiting to come in.  He walks up to my bed and sits down near my feet.  

“How are you feeling Kennedy?” he asks.  

“Ok, I guess,” I answer.  

“Do you remember anything?  Do you know where we are?”

I actually do remember the incident.  Every little detail.  Suddenly a horrible thought floods my mind.  

“Where’s Chad?” I demand to know.  

“He’s doing fine,” my dad tells me.  I can tell he’s hiding something, yet I don’t know what it is.

The door slowly creaks open, and my mom comes back in: this time with the doctor.  My doctor crouches down next to my bed and looks me straight in the eye.

“So, how’s it going Miss Kennedy? You’ve had a pretty rough night but we’re going to take care of you, okay?” she begins, “You were in a bad accident. You ended up losing control of the truck. The other passenger is fine.”

“So how long until I can go home?” I ask.

“Well, there’s one thing about that, sweetheart,” interrupts my mother, “In the accident, you’re head hit the windshield and smashed your spinal cord.”  She starts to cry. My mom puts her head down and says it. “Kennedy, you’re paralyzed.”

I don’t believe the words I’m hearing. I struggle to move my weak body and all I can do is cry. This can’t happen to me! I think.  I try to move my legs.  I try to stand.  But nothing is happening.  I gather as much upper body strength as I can, and I fling myself off the bed.  Though instead of my legs catching me, I land on one of my feet and crumple, my legs not able to take the pressure.   

“Here is a wheelchair for you,” the doctor says as she helps me up.  I stare at the wheelchair in agony.  I don’t need a wheelchair! I think.  I want to tell them, but I know I can’t.  All these years, I’ve seen people in wheelchairs, never having any sympathy for them or even caring.  Now, I’m the one people will see in the wheelchair, probably feeling the same way for me as I would feel for them if they were in a wheelchair.

With my parents and the doctors assistance, I pull myself into the chair.  It is actually quite comfortable.  But it is a simple fact that has been decided and can’t be changed. I am stuck like this. I try to kick my legs but they don’t move! I slam my fists down on them. Tears drip down my cheeks and my mood changes from angry to sad. I lay my head back on the chair. My mom pushes me down the hallway and into the elevator. I assume we’re going to the cafeteria. I would do anything to get out of my own skin right now. I feel trapped. We order food and my mom pushes my chair up to the table. She sits down across from me. She pins me with her blazing glare.

“Why were you driving that car?” she spits out. I shovel in a bite of food and try to avoid her gaze. I continue to eat in quiet. She breaks the silence with her muffled crying and I look up to see my mother sobbing with her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry mom.  Chad asked if I wanted to drive, and the thought was so tempting...”  

My mom looks up, her face red.  “So you’re saying Chad persuaded you?”

“No!” I cry, “He didn’t pressure me at all.  I just couldn’t say no.  It was my fault.” Looking away because I can’t bear to see my mom’s reaction, I think to myself, it is true though, this whole thing happened because of me. I tell my mom I’m ready to go back to the room and she just nods. In an attempt to wheel myself back to the room, a overhear a conversation between the whispering nurses.

“I can’t imagine how she’s going to be now,” their voices trail off and I know it’s about me. I ignore them and force my arms to push the wheels of my chair faster towards my room. As I enter, there sits my little sister and my dad. Abbi is laying in my bed and jerks off when she sees me, probably knowing I’ll be agitated, although I’m not for some reason.

We sit and talk and watch tv throughout the day and into the evening. My mom offers to take Abbi home and stay home with her for the night while dad stays with me. I spot my bag on the table in the corner of the cramped hospital room and wonder when it got there. I think my dad saw me eyeing it up and asks, “Need something?”

“Nah, I got it,” I say out of habit. Then I remember that I can’t walk. My dad looks at me with hurt eyes and gets out of his seat to grab the bag. He hands it to me and plops a kiss on my cheek. It feels warm and soft. I start to wonder how long its been since my own father has kissed me, or actually, since I’ve let him kiss me. My head starts to hurt as I remember the day before the accident -- as my dad pulls away to lay down on the couch, a size so small it would much better accommodate a child.

I lay my head back and try to wash away the painful memories that press me from all sides. I think the nurses suspect that I don’t remember anything from the accident, because they are always telling me to ask if I need any explanations to what happened to me. I’m not really sure how long I’ve been in the hospital.

“How long have I been here?” I ask my dad.

“Oh, probably... Well, about a week now,” he keeps his eyes glued on the television.

“When do I get to leave?” My father just closes his eyes, smiles, and says, “soon.”

I guess when people say time flies, they really mean it. I grab the remote and turn up the tv, listening to my dad’s breathing even out as he falls asleep. A nurse walks in. I quickly pinch shut my eyelids and hope she thinks I’m asleep. Every night one of the ladies comes in to check my blood pressure and to be honest, it’s getting kind of annoying. The sooner I get out of here, the better, I think just as she sees me “sleeping” and leaves. I get up to shut the door, but find myself wheeling down the hallway. I stop at a door labeled “Employees Only” and I silently grin to myself. If no one is going to give me answers, then I am going to have to find them on my own.

Shoving open the door, I am surprised to find the room empty, and I glide in, shutting the door behind myself. Silently I curse myself as I hear the door click shut and wonder what I’m getting myself into. Gazing out, I think that I have stumbled across a lounging area for the hospital’s staff. A small buffett  juts out from the right wall, and across the room are rows of computers, right by a large glass window. I sit down at one of the desktops and begin to search for my file. Some doctor is already logged in, so I use his account to dig through all of the patient’s documents. Finally, I see my name appear on the top part of the screen. Opening up the file, I read every last word, soaking up the information like a sponge. I spot a few doctorian terms that I don’t recognize, but it seems small and insignificant as I read the account summary. I gasp and wheel myself backwards on instinct alone, as I read how much my parents have paid for me. I won’t say, but the number has an awful lot of zero’s in it, and I wonder how much money my parent’s actually have. Pulling myself back to the screen, I examine the report summary.


The teenager was paralyzed in a serious car accident. The truck she was driving swerved out of control into the oncoming traffic, and they crashed, the left side of the car taking most of the impact. The patients spine was damaged permanently, causing her to be paralyzed from the waist down. No further injuries have been acquired but side effects of the paralysis may vary depending on her situation.


I can’t wrap my mind around what I’m seeing. I don’t think its really hit me until now that I am paralyzed. Just then, I hear the door creak open and I sit real still. I spin my wheels around on my chair. A nurse I don’t recognize is standing in the doorway looking at me very quietly, I feel the sweat beading on my forehead as I try to think up an excuse for being in the break room. She just looks at me and motions for me to sit down with her. Hesitantly, I pull up to the table.

“My names Angela,” she smiles, “don’t worry, I’m not going to bite!” She looks about twenty or so and she is very beautiful. I can’t help but notice her big brown eyes and her long blonde hair.

“I’m Kennedy,” I kind of snap, trying to wheedle myself out of the awkward conversation.

“You are a gorgeous young lady,” Angela replies. It’s funny that I was thinking the same thing about her, but I would never say it.

“Thanks, but I have to go,” I sputter, already wheeling out the door and swiftly back to my so called “room.” The wheels of my chair squeal as I quickly pull into the room. Using all of my strength, I force my body up into bed and shut my eyes, hoping I can whisk another bad day away with more sleep.

After a weeks worth of restless nights, I finally sleep. It must have been the best rest I’ve gotten in a long time because when I wake up, I’m not tired or irritated, things people have grown to know me as since the accident. It’s the first time since, ever, maybe, that I’ve thought being paralyzed was my only choice from now on. That’s the way things would be from now on so I better start to accept it. Turning on my side, I hear a knock on the door and then hear it slide open. Pushing myself up I see Ally standing in the doorway. She’s already on her phone, probably texting. She finally decides to peel her eyes away from her phone and look at me. I wave and out of nowhere she rolls her eyes at me.

“What was that?” I laugh. All Ally gives me is a harsh look and a head nod.

“You haven’t called me once,” she’s just starting.

“What do you mean? I’ve been unconscious!” I push. She’s furious now. Ally’s brow furrows and I know I’ve got it coming.

“That doesn’t mean you can just blow me off if that’s what’s going on. It’s your fault that you’re  even here, Kennedy!” Ally yells. I don’t have anything to say to that. Ally knows that would hurt me. She’s always had that advantage. She can pinpoint at every moment exactly what would hurt me. Not wanting her to see my tears, I flip on my side and scream, “Get out!”

“We are no longer friends anymore Kennedy,” she growls. I can hear her mumbling and cursing as she slams shut the door to my hospital room. Reaching down to rub my aching legs, Angela, the nurse I met in the break room, walks in. She comes over to me and sits down on my bed. I can feel her warm hand on my cheek, wiping away my salty tears. I sit up and she looks straight at me, serious.

“I heard what happened,” she spoke calmly and soft.

“It’s nothing,” I say sharply.

“I think you are such an amazing person, Kennedy. It probably sounds weird coming from someone you barely know, but I want you to think of me as a friend. You are such as strong girl and I envy that.” And with that, Angela stood up and left the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

The last few months have tested me. My physical therapy continues, a daily routine even outside of the hospital’s careful watch. I was sent home two months ago today, the accident 5 months ago now. Every time I say this or even think it, I realize how corny it sounds, but the truth is, I think I’ve changed. After about a week of thinking Ally was just being stubborn after our fight, I came to understand why she suddenly hated me. It was as simple as that we ended up losing our mansion, losing the use of my own legs and in her mind, thinking that I’d also lost all sense of “normalcy.” I wasn’t the popular kid anymore, the star on the volleyball team with the hot boyfriend, now I am the weirdo who lives in a crappy apartment in downtown Laney. My parents couldn’t afford to keep our house with all of my medical bills, so we now live in a rented shack, or what I believe it is better named as.

Today was my first day back to school after the accident. As my mom drove her rusty Ford down I 64, I glanced out the passenger side window, catching a glimpse of our old house. It looked better than ever.  May,our housekeeper, must have been doing a good job. I forced myself to keep my eyes on the road, trying to keep down all the painful memories.

As mom pulled into the handicapped parking spot along the main entrance of the high school, I saw Chad gathered around with his buddies, laughing at some dumb joke probably. It had been difficult earlier that morning for my mom to lift me into the passenger’s seat, but somehow she managed to do it. With my walker, I can somewhat shuffle my feet into a motion that’s supposed to resemble something like walking. My mom helps me by opening the trunk of the car and unfolding my wheelchair onto the cool pavement. It’s only when I plop down into it, that I realize how many people are watching me. Some turn away, some chuckle as they see me eyeing them. Out of breath, I pull up to my locker. When I passed Chad in the parking lot, he took one look in my direction and went back to whatever he was doing, completely ignoring me. Struggling to reach the lock and partially forgetting the combo, I hear the clack of Ally’s high heels on the hallway’s tiled floor. The sound of other shoes clack behind her, a mob of followers, who used to may I remind you, admire me. Now, as they swagger past, I hear their snickers and can’t help but close my eyes and hope they don’t stop by me. Just my luck, Ally does, meaning the rest of the crew is bound to join.

“So I hear you’re living in Laney now, huh?” Ally smirked.

“Uh, yeah, Al, your mom was just over the other day,” I urged, trying to get off the topic.

“Well try not to run over anyone’s feet,” Ally snapped and turned to leave. Rachel caught my eye just as everyone else was walking swiftly down the hall.

“I’m so sorry,” Rachel whispered. Then again she was running to catch up with the others.
I scoot my way down the tight hall towards the bedroom where I will sleep. Shoving open the door tiredly, I move forward into the dark depths of the room. I flick on the switch and the room is bathed in light. Sadly I move towards the bed with my phone out. The message light blinks once for a new message, and I flip it open eagerly. Yet all I see is a text from Chad.

“Sorry I can’t do this anymore. It’s over.”  Tears form in the corners of my eye, but I try desperately to blink them back. After all that we’ve been through I can’t believe that he would do this to me. Ally I can take, she was just a shallow jerk in the first place and we probably never were friends, but Chad, I thought we had something special. But,  the dark part of my mind thinks, maybe we never did.  I am about to snap my phone shut, but something stops me. Wait a second. There is more than one message.

I begin to scroll through my conversations, looking for the new message, when I see Ally’s conversation. Anger pounds through me and I stop scrolling for a moment until I can get my emotions under control. Finally I manage to delete Ally’s conversations. I don’t need her anymore, the selfish little jerkface. Finality strikes as I delete from my contacts also, and I feel a sense of pride flood through me.

Continuing to scroll I finally see a blinking text message. A quick glance tells me that it is from Rachel. All I see are a few words, but it is enough to make me smile.
“Are you going to be okay?” Of course I will.  I think, and then a pang hits me. No, I won’t. I won’t ever be ok, not again. A tear drips down my cheek. All of my dreams are crushed. About having a nice prom, becoming a great volleyball player, and more. I will never be ok. Choking back some more tears I manage to type my response. Pressing send, I feel another strong urge to throw my phone. Instead, I use my volleyball pillow which rests on my perfectly made bed. It hits a vase and glass shatters everywhere as it crashes. I just sit there, and let the waves of tears come, sobs racking through my entire body. Suddenly there is a pounding on the door.

“Kennedy! Kennedy are you alright?” It’s mom and dad, and I know I should respond. I never have heard them this frantic before. In fact, I don’t really hear them at all unless they are arguing with me. I don’t really even know that they cared so much. I steady my voice for a fraction of a second.

“I’m fine,” and then I wheel myself over to the door where I embrace them, letting the tears come yet again. They burn my eyes, the salty drops stinging as they roll off my cheeks. Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I roll out of my room and down the hall to my sister’s room. She opens the door, almost aggrivated to see me, but I reach out to her anyways. I wrap my arms around her tiny waist and think of what it was like to be thirteen. Out of nowhere, we both start laughing hysterically. I think with everything that's happened it's made us a bit crazy, but a whole lot closer.

The next day when I was finally home from another bad day at school, I laid on my couch, flipping through my old text messages. It kills me to think that once I had a normal life. What kills me more is that I live with the fact that I did this to myself. No one else. I let the thought fry my brain. Just as I begin to shut my teary eyes, my phone vibrates in my hand. Flipping open the screen, I see a text waiting impatiently on the screen. Instead of jumping to read it like I know I always do, I click shut my phone and let it stay unread.

I figure that whatever the message says, it doesn't really matter. Thinking back to my early birthday bash back at the old house, the sleepovers with Ally, car rides with Chad, none of it really matters in the long run. Just then, I hear the key to the rusty lock snap open and my mother flies in.

“Man, we really need a new lock,” she laughs. All I do is smile at her. Something I haven't done in a long time, I remember, smile. It feels good.

“I love you mom,” I say out loud. She gives me a weird look like the words, ‘I love you’ are something completely foreign to me. And in that moment, I realize all I will ever need is right here, even in this crusty, old Laney apartment. Resting my head back into the couch, I close my eyes and for once in a long while, try to think about nothing. I guess since the accident I’ve been doing a lot of new thinking, something I could get used to, along with all the rest of it...

No comments:

Post a Comment