Intersecting Lines

Chapter 1

                Then I heard muffled sirens and footsteps rushing towards me, I can see people crowding around me and I felt the cold asphalt against the back of my hand as they removed me from my car that was, if I'm not mistaken, upside down. I could taste blood in my mouth and it made me sick. It made me think that this would be the taste of pain in my life. I swallowed and tried to keep myself conscious. I saw them put me in the ambulance, then I saw mom beside me. She was crying. Then I heard them say my name "Sophie Park, 18 years old..." I hear a couple of words but I can't make anything out of it. Everything in me went dark after that.

                I woke up that morning not because of mom's voice. I woke up because I could feel the pain reliever wearing out of my body. Its effect is slowly fading away, giving my body the reality of its situation.

"Sophie, the doctor's here." I heard mom's voice although I didn't open my eyes. I slowly opened them and I saw a woman around her forties wearing a white coat. She must be my doctor – obviously. She looked reliable and safe, but something about her expression that day scared me.

"Hello, Sophie. I'm doctor Rebecca Mills. I'm the head of orthopedic section in this hospital. How are you feeling?" she said in the usual tone most doctors use. It's actually soothing to hear. I tried to speak but only a monotonous sound escaped my mouth.

"Keep trying. Don't pressure yourself." She assured me with her gentle smile and I did as she said. Minutes later, I managed to speak somehow.

"It... h-hurts." That is all I can manage to say.

"I know it does. The pain will go away soon when I inject this pain reliever. I'll go back here for the afternoon rounds." She said and she left the orthopedic ward with all her trainees. I mean, the resident doctors.

                The next day, she came back again and this time she's alone. No resident doctors and she seem to be wearing a more serious expression now. It scared me big time. She started to explain what happened to me – the muscles that the accident tore, the bones that got broken and a lot of other stuff that sounded like nothing to me. This is not what I want to hear. It appears to me that the accident inflicted a lot more damages than I thought it would. No wonder it hurt like hell when the pain reliever subsided. Then she got to the important part of all the explaining and the body parts and all that stuff I don't really understand.

"Sophie, I need to tell you this." I can see that it's a little hard for her to tell me what the real deal is. So I helped.

"How much time do I need to heal?" I finally ask her. I was scared that I kept clenching my teeth while I wait for answers that scared me to death while trying to hold back the tears. It's enough that mom cried for me. I don't have to do it for myself.

"You need nine months to recover. But, it could be shorter than that. It depends on the patient's will to heal." I nod as if I accepted what she said. But I didn't. I didn't accept anything that she said to me. I can't accept what she said to me, because for me everything that she said was a lie. It's something to agitate me and throw me off balance from what I do. But the thing that I hate the most is the complete and utter truth that she told me was the reality of my current situation. That night, I didn't sleep. I just cried. I cried so hard and so long that I know I ran out of tears for me to cry for the rest of my life, not that I intend on staying for long. I keep going back to the practice I had that day. The perfect weather, the perfect routines and all of that—and now, everything's gone. Like I watched everything happen right before my eyes. You know how when you're a child and you played with bubbles you always thought that if don't touch the bubble it won't burst, but it will. That is how my situation goes after the accident. I never wanted to be involved in that car crash, I didn't want to touch the bubble, but it bursted anyway. Together with my tears that ran out that night, my will to live and to be better left me too. My dreams and all my love for life left me. And I don't think they have intentions of coming back.

~~~

 

                Mom placed the apples she peeled and sliced in front of my desk like she's asking me to eat it. But I don't have the appetite to do so. I could just starve myself to death.

"Sophie, you should eat. You need to regain your strength for the therapy after they remove your cast." She swallowed the piece of apple she's been chewing while I stare at the other sliced ones.

"I don't need to go to therapy. Trust me." I tell her, it's the truth. I don't need to go to therapy cause I'm probably dead before they even remove all the cast wrapped in my body right now.

"Don't say that. You'll go to therapy and you'll get better—"I cut her off before she could sugarcoat my situation any further.

"I'm not getting better! Stop sugarcoating things for me because you don't understand." I said, a little louder than I should have. Mom left the room clenching her hand. I know she's going to cry as soon as the doors close behind her. A couple of the patients and their guardians looked our way because of the commotion I caused. I closed my eyes just because I think that when I close it my misery would end. I think about the rink again to find happy thoughts but it only took me back to the day I lost everything – a week ago. I began to taste the blood in my mouth and I had to catch my breath and immediately open my eyes. This is hopeless. I am hopeless. Nothing and no one can save me. So I might as well die. I should. I may get better but I won't be the same me after I get out of this mess. I may not be able to return to the ice rink again. The thought made me shiver and gave me the urge to just kill myself right in this moment.

                Mom came back a few hours later like nothing happened. Like she never sugarcoated things for me and I never raised my voice to cut her off. She went to the bathroom and got water. She then started dipping the towel; she's going to clean me. And here I am feeling as useless as ever. She surrounded my bed with the draping hospital curtains and she started to wipe the exposed parts of my body. I can see the dark circles around her eyes that came from restless nights of looking after me and trying her best to keep her cries as quiet as possible so she won't wake me up. And the lines that deepened a little more after I got admitted in this hospital. I had to look away. This is starting to make me feel guilty. I don't want to feel anything anymore. I want to feel as numb as possible when I leave this world. So when I leave, I just do – everything all at once.

                When mom finished cleaning me, she opened the curtains again. That's when I saw this new guy. Not the guy across my bed who has his leg up in the air and hanging like me. Or the guy beside him that got his hips broken while going down the stairs. Or the girl that broke her ankle when she slipped on an alley. He's not one of the guardians that I always see for a week now. He's different. He's new. He looks like he is around my age. He has a somewhat brunette hair that is quite long but not too long. Jusr enough to give him a nice fringe and a nice jaw line from the side. He's got average nose and slightly small eyes like mine. He is reading a book with that expression you get when you want to exchange your reality for a better one. I don't know who he is and I have no plans of knowing. I just hope that he minds his own business and won't get in my way of leaving this world as soon as possible. I just want to die. And I hope he helps me.