Ch - 1 The Accident

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"Claric-- umm, could you spell your name, ma'am?"

"Can I call you Clay, it's simpler that way."

"Is it ClariSEES or ClariSEEK?"

Yeah, my name is Clarisice Willow Emmerson.

Its Clar-i-sis, just saying. Scammers get it wrong all the time. Yes, I call them for fun, I know you'd be looking at me weird if I actually stood in front of you.

In short, Claire. The reader can refer to me as Claire.

But my life isn't as glamorous as my name, to say the least.

This happened a year ago. My best friend Danielle Crestin and our group of friends went on a late-night hangout to celebrate graduating college. We returned from a party and Lia, our friend who was driving was drunk, even though she wasn't supposed to be. We all tried to convince her that either I or Danielle should drive since we were the only ones who weren't drowsy or drunk in any way. Lia didn't listen, and we faced the consequences. A truck came in front of us, and Lia steered out of the way, and we crashed right into another car, presumably driven by someone exactly like Lia. My world became black at that time. Danielle and our other two friends sitting in the back didn't get hurt too badly, just a fracture here and there. I was in the front seat with Lia, directing her, so I was pretty badly hurt. Lia and I were rushed to the hospital immediately. Lia was in a coma because of a disastrous head injury. I was in the hospital for a month. My sensory leg nerves were damaged horribly. I couldn't walk for the rest of my life, because I literally couldn't feel my legs and had to stay in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I was already a shy and introverted and sensitive person, and after this, I couldn't open up to people even more. This not only left me physically but even mentally disabled for the rest of my life. Danielle and my group of friends spread away from each other, ready for higher education or to take up jobs. But I knew I couldn't take up any job. Not be able to go outside. I'd be caught up in my home forever, in my own world of depression and darkness. I thought about who I could talk to. Mom and Dad, well, were both always on business trips, and never home. They worked in different cities and rarely spoke to each other, let alone us.

Ok, exaggeration.

They do visit once in 4-5 years, but that was still less. Too less. They both had started their businesses here, so they used to come here mainly for business trips. The only person I could talk to was the most comforting and positive person in my world, my sister, Julianne Willow Emmerson, Julia.


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