Unsuspecting Blessing.

xxxiii

xxxiii

Three weeks had passed since Brian came home to me, and life started on an upwards climb; a climb still, because the stress of an invading court case still loomed over me like some evil idol; but nonetheless, the path stayed on upward trajectory. I officially did not have to use my crutches anymore, and the pain when walking subsided most of the time, unless I accidentally fell down, kicked something, or really even just stubbed my toe. Any wrong bend in my leg would send needles of excruciating pain that would sting for days, but thankfully that had only happened once and Brian had been there to help me out of the embarrassing situation because it did happen just getting into class; however he still became absent for the majority of class simply for my well being.

Another day passed, and one week remained until my court case. The preparation for it felt more strenuous than what I expected the case to be like, standing in a room filled with people unknown to me there to judge me for anything really. Whether they would take my side, or the driver's side I did not know, but I did speculate they would be displeased with me from the start and doubtlessly choose the driver's side right away. Thinking of the case, even the courtroom itself, made me feel like a child. A young child, one that is terrified of the world around her. It made me feel like, well, it made me feel like me. Like that girl who grew up terrified of what other people think, or how they act, and what they can do to me if I do anything remotely unnatural. They were all the slithering shadows in my closet or under my bed, and the courtroom, I speculated, would be just as bad. With all the unique monsters there to jurat me send me to, without a doubt, financial damnation. Some say that faith is all that is needed, some say it is confidence or good looks—which I feel go hand-in-hand—and some say it is a look of innocence. Well, just by looking in the mirror I knew I lacked all of the above.

Another day had passed, and the dwelling feeling stayed. I still thought, unwillingly, of the dark creatures of the night that would surely arbitrate myself and the driver but inevitably side with the guilty. I am just not the type of person who makes it out alive. Humanity's survival depends on the weak, because without the weak there cannot be the strong; and I just so happen to be the prey for the latter, for them to eat me and all others like me. In every story the monster always loses, but in this case I knew for sure that the creatures would take a seething victory. I did not remember the man who hit me, I could not even remember at the time what kind of car he drove—all I knew from that day, from that moment, was Brian's face above me as I felt the worst pain of my life. But I conjured up a man in my head, the type of man to escape scot-free in any situation. A mobster, or something. With nice hair slicked back, and a nice suit with a very affectionately infectious face; someone handsome or sophisticated looking to weasel out of the price. I thought so long about how proper this man must have looked, that I myself started to doubt whether it was his fault or not. Then an arrow struck me and sent a shock through my body. What if it wasn't his fault? What if I had not been standing in the crosswalk? What if I jumped out in front of the car? These questions all were things that would surely be asked to me in the courtroom, I thought as they plagued my mind with this powerful famine of 'what if?' I felt tired, and laid down.

Three days had passed after that, slowly but in a blur. Three more and I would be dressed in nice clothes ready to fight a battle for essentially my life and my dignity.

"Brian," I said, and he looked at me sweetly as he always did, "what if I don't win?"

He smiled, and said: "Then I'll still be here, money or not."

Three more days passed, and I woke up on the day of my court date.