That day, they allowed me to do more leg exercises and I can already move my ankles. I can bend my knees but only to a certain extent, which is a good sign. They said I would probably be able to walk normally again in about a month or two. I just went with it. After my outburst, I kind of just stopped functioning. I went mute. I figured if I just kept saying that everything was going to get better, then I would just jinx myself. So I just simply stopped talking. It's been two weeks and I haven't said a word. I would nod, smile, and use facial expressions to respond to everything. I refused to talk again. Maybe when I start walking, I'll start talking again. Which means I'll probably never talk again. I am currently sitting on the floor in my room, watching repeats of Dance Moms on the 32 inch flat screen television hanging on my bedroom wall while eating a bowl of chocolate, caramel, and peanut butter covered popcorn. Don't judge me. Austin came over sometimes. I don't exactly know why but I was glad he did. I liked being around him. His presence was comforting. He would beg for me to talk to him; everyone did; but I refused. I would pretend to zip up my lips and throw away the key which frustrated everyone. I felt guilty somewhere inside of me for making them angry at me but they didn't know what went on inside of my head-the endless battles and tears I hid from the world and save inside myself for a time when I will be all alone. Right now, no one would leave me alone, which only frustrated me even more, causing me to delay my speech date. A soft knock drummed onto my bedroom door. Without my permission, Clarissa waltzed in and plopped down beside me, laying her head on my shoulder and digging her hand into the bowl of popcorn.
"This stuff is so fattening." She mumbles, her mouth stuffed with the remains of the popped corn. I turn my head and glare at her. She knows how much I hate when people talk with their mouth full. It's almost like a pet peeve. "Sorry." She says after swallowing the rest of the snack. I grin and turn back to the television where Kathy; owner of Candy Apples Dance Company and arch nemesis of Abby Lee Miller; hits Abby (dance teacher who owns the Abby Lee Dance Company, and this is her tv show) with her purse after Abby "accidentally" tosses water from her water bottle all over Kathy. Hell breaks loose backstage at the dance competition. Jill; one of the dance moms; starts defending Abby and her daughter Kendall (who was insulted by Kathy during Kendall's performance) which only resulted in Kathy throwing water all over Jill. Jill put her hands up trying to block the water, yelling: "okay, okay, okay, Kathy. Kathy, water doesn't hurt me. Water doesn't hurt me."
"What I great example these women are setting for their children." I chuckle and nod in agreement, grabbing another handful of popcorn and shoving it into my mouth. This show always makes me so depressed because all I long to do is dance. I just want to dance. Watching these girls doing what I wish I could do only makes me more frustrated than I have been since I woke up in the hospital not being able to move my legs-or barely anything at that matter. When I arrived at the hospital, I had a broken wrist, a major head injury, major blood loss, memory loss, a major concussion, a fractured neck, a couple bones in my spine were broken, and all the bones in legs, down were broken. On the bright side, when; if; my legs heal, they'll be more flexible than they were before, meaning I would be able to dance better. Clarissa just had a one way conversation with me; just blabbering about things that I didn't really respond to, but I was listening. She said she was going to take me to a movie tomorrow and I nodded my head, agreeing to her offer. She said there's this new movie out with James Franco (who she has THE biggest crush on) called This Is The End. I was practically forced to watch every single one of the movies James Franco has starred in. Not that I'm complaining. He's extremely attractive and a great actor; what more could you want in a guy. I didn't have a favorite though. To be honest, I loved them all.
The next day, we went to the AMC theater closest to my house and saw the movie. I was laughing through the entire movie. It was so funny-pretty lame-but extremely funny. After that, we snuck into the next showing of the new movie called Now You See Me. Now You See Me had to be the best movie I've ever seen in my whole life. Now, I was suddenly interested in magic. Or at least magicians who rob banks just to get into a secret organization for the world's greatest magicians. I almost screamed out in protest at the major plot twists that occurred during the film. I was crying one moment and jumping for joy the next. It was simply...awesome. We also snuck in to see The Internship which involved my future husband-Dylan O'Brian. Those movies were about a good 3 hour distraction of my sorrows. I hated being sad-better yet, I despised it. I despised crying. I despised frowning. I despised depression. But here I was, doing all those and more. But I had a good reason to, right?
