*Okay, I never posted this. But I will now. WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE
this was for my Creative Writing class and I was instructed to keep it realistic, so, yeah :P*
I stare at the crumpled sheets in my hand. Clenching and unclenching my fingers, taking deep breaths, I brace myself for what I’m about to do. They couldn’t be right. I will walk again. I release the stark white material and use my hands to swing my legs off the bed. Gazing sadly at those shriveled, pale members of my body brings tears to my eyes. I could hear the screeching of braking cars again, see the flash of light, feel the rush of pain.
**********
“So, you coming to Mike’s tonight?” Tara asked. I pressed the cold cell-phone harder against my ear as I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Reception was pretty bad in my room.
“Uh…I’m not sure…Maybe?”
I heard Tara sigh and the brakes of that ancient car of hers screeched loudly. The engine could be heard revving and sputtering as I imagined her driving, one hand on the wheel, the other holding her cell, barely noticing her surroundings as she chatted my ear off.
“Come on, you lazy ass! There’ll be free beer, free cigarettes, hell, there’ll even be free marijuana!”
I laughed. “Tara, you know I don’t do drugs.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot you’re a freaking angel.” I could practically see her rolling her eyes at me. “Seriously, Angela, it’s our senior year! We only have a few weeks left before graduation! Stop being so damn well behaved and have a little fun! Everyone’s gonna be there, including your boyfriend!”
“Ryan didn’t tell me he was going out tonight…” I frowned.
“Probably because you’re such a fucking party pooper!” Tara sounded exasperated. “Look, just come, okay? You don’t have to get drunk or high or anything; you can be the freaking designated driver, for all I care! Just. Come.”
“Alright, alright! I’ll come!” I sighed. Tara released a delighted whoop, and from the excessive beeping in the background, I could tell she had probably let go of the car’s wheel for a second.
“Shut the hell up, you bastards!” Her voice sounded distant, and the sound of rushing wind could be heard, so I guessed she had rolled down the window. Quiet was restored in a moment and Tara’s tone became pleasant. “I’ll be at your house in a few, Ange.” There was a click, and then silence. I smiled softly and shook my head; I still couldn’t understand how the two of us were friends. We were such opposites. I was valedictorian and top of my class. I worked hard at my job at Macy’s, studied hard at school, and had a very good reputation amongst my peers, perhaps even too good a reputation. Tara partied hard and was only just barely graduating high school, mostly because I had done the majority of her work and she cheated off a lot of my tests. Her reputation wasn’t good or bad, but rather borderline scandalous. But despite her blunt nature and numerous flaws, she was very lovable and a good friend.
Only a few minutes passed before she strutted into my room and tossed her oversized bag onto my desk, which was littered with books and papers. She grinned at me, hands on hips, her dark brown hair cascading in curls down her back.
“Ready for a party makeover, Ange?”
The only word that came to mind when Tara and I walked into Mike’s house was loud. Very, very loud. Tuneless music blared throughout the rooms and everyone shouted to be heard. A lot of laughing people were gathered around a low, gray table, and they were tossing ping-pong balls into plastic red cups of beer. My eyes searched the room we had entered for Ryan, but he was nowhere to be seen.
I looked up at Tara, who was at least four inches taller than me, and said as loudly as I could, “I thought you said Ryan would be here!” Tara’s wide smile dropped to an annoyed expression as she looked down at me.
“God, Ange, you’re pathetic! We just got here; Ryan could be anywhere. You’ve got his number, why don’t you just text him?”
“His phone broke last week; I can’t text him until he gets a new one.” I bit my lip, fiddling with the strands of blonde hair that had fallen out of my loose bun. Tara looked at me sharply and there was something in her expression that I found really weird. “What?”
“I could’ve sworn I saw him texting yesterday in class, though.” She glanced at me with that weird look again then quickly smiled and shook her head. “Know what? He was probably borrowing Matt’s phone or something. They were passing shit back and forth the entire time.” Tara cleared her throat and looked around. “Uh, let’s go get a drink.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me along. My eyebrows knitted together; why would Ryan lie to me about breaking his phone? Nothing made sense, and I didn’t like nonsensical situations. I couldn’t handle confusion very well, and the setting I was in and the emotions I felt were the epitome of confusion.
We pushed our way through the crowd until we found the table of drinks. Hard liquor, beers, and even a few sodas covered every available inch and a few spillages pooled on the surrounding floor. I grabbed a diet coke and Tara took a Bud Light.
“I’ll save the vodka for later,” she shouted at me, a twinkle in her dark eyes. I laughed half-heartedly, my eyes constantly searching the room for the familiar face of Ryan. When I finally saw him, I wished that I’d never come to this stupid party at all. There he stood, his arms wrapped around some girl I had never even seen before. And their faces were so close—too close. My mouth dropped open and the room seemed to grow eerily quiet, yet as I looked around, nothing seemed changed. I couldn’t breathe; I felt sick; I could practically feel bile rising in my throat. The soda can dropped to the floor, clanging loudly as it made impact. With it, all the noise of the party came rushing back. Feeling as if my whole world had just come crashing down, I ran away from Ryan and that girl, out of Mike’s house, and into my car. I threw it into reverse, backed out of the driveway, shifted into drive, and then slammed on the gas pedal, the tears streaming down my face.
**********
Gently, I place my feet on the floor, still sitting on the bed to avoid putting any weight on my legs. I put some pressure on one foot experimentally. I don’t feel anything. I wonder if not feeling anything was a good thing or not. I repeat the action with the other foot; the result is the same: nothing.
***********
I woke up to a bright light, surrounded by white walls, and engulfed by an overwhelming scent of sick people and cleanliness. Those two combined scents made no sense at all to me, and I felt somewhat panicked by the confusion they incurred. The only part of me I could move was my eyes, and those just barely. Anxious mutters and relieved sighs echoed around the room and I recognized the voices of my parents and Tara. All too fast my memories flooded back, and I painfully remembered how I had sped through the stop sign, my vision blurred with tears. The truck had crashed into my left side before I could even register what had happened. Beyond that, I only remembered spinning lights against a black background, squealing tires on the pavement, and a scream that was probably my own. A man who I presumed to be my doctor came into view and he started talking to me in a gentle tone, explaining what had happened and what my condition was.
I didn’t listen to a single word of it until he said, “Now, I know this is a lot for you to take in right now, but I’m sorry to say that it’s doubtful you’ll ever walk again.” At that moment, time seemed to stand still and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, waiting with bated breath for my reaction. My mouth suddenly felt very dry and everything started spinning. I slammed my eyes shut, desperately hoping that this was all a nightmare. Somebody grabbed my hand and told me that everything would be okay, that I would get through this. Tara’s voice drifted through the haze to tell me that Ryan was here now and that was when I felt something. Rage coursed through me and my arms started shaking; my skin felt hot and I could tell my face was red with anger. The beeping of the heart monitor to my right began to quicken as my pulse raced; I was itching to tear Ryan to shreds.
“Hey, baby. How you doing?” Hearing him talk to me like that was the final straw, and I suddenly found my voice.
“Fuck you, Ryan!” I screamed hoarsely, my voice cracking. There was a collective gasp throughout the room and I coughed involuntarily. “This is all your fault! I saw you and that slut at Mike’s party! That’s why all of this happened!” My eyes flew open and I could see a blurry version of Ryan’s face. His mouth was open and his eyebrows raised. Then he stared down at his hands and scrunched his forehead, his lips pressed tight together. Everyone was staring at him expectantly. There was a moment of complete and shocked silence before he muttered some inaudible apology, then hurried out of the room. My breath was now shaky and oxygen wasn’t coming fast enough. I felt dizzy and lightheaded and before I even had time to feel an emotion, I passed out.
**********
Taking a deep breath, I push myself off the bed and stand upright. Joy fills my entire body and I feel like I’m flying. I carefully move one foot forward, ready to prove them all wrong. All those pitying faces and consoling voices that I could no longer even place would disappear now. As I step down, my face wreathed in a smile, my knees buckle underneath me. Horror courses through me as I crumple like a rag-doll into a heap on the floor. I guess they were right after all.
