My New Home

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By the time I woke up two days later,  most of the stuff was already in our room. I checked the clock and laid back down. I wondered how far my new school would be and if I could bike there. I would, if I could, but I can't. I use the backboard to push myself up and nearly scream out in pain. I call for my mom and she comes into my room, looking extremely energized. I wonder how many cups of coffee she has had so far. My mom was a huge coffee and tea person. Coffee in the morning, tea in the night. 

"Mom? I have to take a shower. Can you get me there?" I croaked. My voice cracked and I put a hand to my throat. She smiled and picked me up. Then silently, she placed me in the bathroom and left me on my own. I took a quick shower, scrubbing my hair for the first time it felt like in weeks, and added some coconut oil. All the blood in my body was rushing around, making me more and more energized by the second. I ripped open the see-through shower curtain, which made no sense to me. Why have one at all if someone was to walk in here and see it all anyway? I bet my mom would change it by next week. I hobbled back to my room, holding my old and dorty clothes in one and hand my keeping my towel up with the other. I threw the clothes across the room in a heap and carried on to dress up. This room had one window - small and crammed against the wall. I wouldn't normally do this in my old room just because I didn't want to get shot but I made sure the door was locked before rushing to the far corner and trying to pull it up. When I finally got it open, I could see the marks it left on my hands from the bottom of the window, but I ignored them. I enjoyed the breeze and let all the stuffy and smoky air from my shower zoom out. I was supposed to head to school tomorrow but what they are saying on the T.V makes it seem like it wasn't gonna happen. I finally pulled my hair into a tight bun with a rat tooth comb and some gel. I fought the urge to look at myself in the mirror but I finally gave up. The bruises and cuts from the crash were still there. It has been a month or so - they should have disappeared by now.

I pulled my face in every direction - trying to make it look more natural, but then I decided to quit after one of the cuts busted open and blood started dripping down my face. I hobbled to the window to pull it closed and then to the bathroom, too lazy to bring out the wheelchair from the closet and I dabbed at the scab till the blood had disappered. Now the second decision of my day, should I hobble to school or ride the wheelchair? I decided that the hobble will distract people from my bloody face. It will be noticeable but not as noticeable as a big wheelchair. I took another look at the mirror. I wanted to smash every window in all of Sunshine Estate. I don't think I can bear to look at the cuts I did. Maybe I should staple my face so that they look less noticeable. I shrug the though away, laughing in my mind. Then I turned off the bathroom lights and pushed myself into the living room.

 The local news station was on and everyone was gathering around - even Miracle. She had a bag of sour gummies and I wanted one so badly. I stared for a little bit then checked my bag that someone had brought to the hospital for what I was originally using to buy what I wanted from the store back in Redwood. I pulled out the twenties and the coins from the pocket of the bag. I waved them in the air and cut the silence by asking, "I'm walking to the store today. Does anyone need anything?" My dad shouted lazily from the couch, "Beer and lots of it. Bring it fast because I'm going out tonight." I rolled my eyes - I hope he's not stupid enough to think I would actually get him beer. I don't even think the people at Walmart would allow me, guessing by my baby face that I am a minor. Miracle adds, "Oh, oh, oh! I know! We ran out of Lucky Charms like a week ago. Can you pick some up from the store?" I just nodded and wrote down on the back of small hand with a pen that I picked up from the table. My mom waltzed into the room, practically on fire, and starts, "Oh, are you going to the store, Thomas? If so, can you pick me up some lotion?" He sighes and says, "Chimamanda's going to the store so tell her." She turned on her heels and began, "The same Chimamanda who could barely get up and walk to the bathroom across the hall? I don't think so! Where is your wheelchair? We have to pack it up and put it in the car! I don't have enough time to drive you and Miracle to separate schools and be on time for work. And I'm picking you up too." She glares me down, looking like went behind her back and actually stabbed her. She sat down on the couch, her mood suddenly sour. I pout, knowing that I was dumb to think that I could get through the day and still be able to walk to Walmart. We sit in silence, the news thankfully filling the room and taking away the awkwardness.

"Next, on this lovely Monday morning is something that is currently moving around Illinois - COVID-19. This deadly disease is currently sweeping the world and making its rounds. Governor Jay Roberts has this message for us," the daily announcer reports in a monotonous voice. The screen flashes to a Jay Roberts, the governor of Illinois. I turn away but just before I hear my mom gasp.

"No work? How am I supposed to pay the bills?!" She exclaims. No work - does that mean no school? My dad and Miracle begin screaming with happiness while my mom collapses on the couch. I'm with my mom - we just got here. How are we supposed to keep up? If "the lady in stilettos" doesn't kill us - coronavirus will.

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