Cut Off

Chapter 1

I am on my way home from school. Emily is driving because my legs are sore from track practice. Track is literally my life, but the pain is something I have to deal with. I'm 18 years old and I have been doing Track since I was 14.

Emily is rambling on about some school assignment when I see a car speeding toward us.

"Move," I say to Emily a little too late.

She turns but we wrap around a pole with the other car crashing into us.

Me, being the idiot I am, has no seatbelt on because I was propping my legs up. But the impact of the other car caused me to fly out of the car.

After just a few seconds, I blackout, not knowing where Emily is.

----

I wake up and all I can see is white and all I hear is beeping.

"She's awake" I hear someone say.

"Mom?" I ask.

"Oh my God, sweetie," she says.

"Sit her up," she says to who I'm assuming is a nurse.

"What happened?" I ask her.

"You were in an accident" she answers.

All of a sudden, the memories flood in. Driving home from school, the lights, the pole.

"Where's Emily?" I ask her.

"She's okay. She's in the waiting room with your dad and brother. She just has a few scratches and bruises."

"Good," I say to her. "Can you bring her to me?"

"Of course," she says and hurries out of the room.

She comes back a few minutes later with Emily trailing behind her.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," I say back.

"Are you okay?" she asks me.

"I don't know. You tell me."

"Well...um...has your mom talked to you about your injuries yet?" she asks.

"No..." I say. "Why?"

"Maybe she should tell you."

"Em, tell me."

"Are you in any pain?" she asks.

"No. I can't feel anything from the waist down. Please just tell me what happened."

"Lift the blanket. It will be easier for you to see"

I look at her questioningly but do as she says.

As I left the blanket, I see something that horrifies me. Or rather, I don't see something. My right leg is gone from the knee down.

"Oh my God," I say, still in shock.

"Apparently it was pretty infected from where the glass from the window cut into it," Emily says.

"Oh my God," I say again.

"I'm so sorry," she says.

"It's not your fault," I say.

"Yes, it is. I was the one driving. I—" she starts but I cut her off.

"Stop," I say. "It was not your fault."

"I still feel awful."

"It's okay. Can you just get me my dad and Tyler? I want to see them." I say to her.

"Of course," she says and leaves.

I really just want to see my family. I'm sure Tyler doesn't even know what this will mean. He is only 12. He isn't young, but he has grown up with a perfect life. We both have.