My father opened the door of the old rickety Ford, Firmly grasping my left arm so I would not fall. He peeled back the waterproof wrap that safely incased my wheelchair, and slipped me into the soft leather cushions. My heart raced immediately as i pushed the go button on the arm rest. The bandana rippled in the wind of the nippy November air, almost knocking it straight off my shiny, hairless scalp. As we entered the apartment building, I replayed the scene in my head over and over...
**Flashback
I was up to the plate, bat firmly in my hand, blowing the black bangs out of my face, returning to reality when I realized the softball flew right past my cheek. "Strike One!" the umpire screamed in my face, obviously trying to rub it in. I hate you Scott Winchell, The umpire and also my worst nemesis. This time I was alert and ready to hit Quinn's Curveball. She through and With one crack of the bat, I knew I had done it, but as I opened my eyes, I heard my mother scream "Run Viviane! Run!!" I started to sprint accross the diamond, but suddenly my lungs gave out, sending me into a wave of nothingness. After what I had thought was eternity, My father's screaming along with sirens broke the silence. "Honey! We are getting you to the hospital for testing!" I nodded my head, gripping my mother and fathers hand, who were sitting on either side of me. I fell back asleep, but I awoke on a hospital bed to the sound of a heart monitor and college baseball on the television. There. Were at least 7 IVs in my arm, and a breathing tube stuck up my nostrils. "She's awake," said none other than Dr. Nolan, Mother's co-worker. "I'm sorry, but your daughter has leukemia."
End of flashback*
I hope that South Carolina isn't as bad.
YOU ARE READING
Not So Normal
Non-FictionA young girl finds out that she has leukemia, and her Major League Baseball dreams are crushed. But the coach tests her throwing skills. She pitches every ball perfectly. But when her father has to run from the law, will she win it for her team? Or...
