The Impossible

2. Bad News and Good News

"Hello, Brianna. How are you today?" Dr. Folger asked me. I replied that I was fine, my stomach turning. He couldn't possibly have any MORE bad news, could he? I stared at him anxiously, wringing my hands in my lap while he asked me the endless list of standard questions, like what my appetite is like.

"Just tell me what you wanted to see me for," I snapped, losing my patience. I was sort of on an emotional roller coaster today. "Please," I added. He smiled at me wanly, and put down his clipboard.

"It's good to see patients in your...situation... not moping and sulking around all day," he told me. I frowned at him, just wanting him to spit it out.

"Well...," he hesitated, "I'll just be straight with you. You will never be able to walk again, Brianna. There's a very small chance that your physical therapy will help you regain any feeling in your legs, and even if the odds are in your favor, you still wouldn't be able to use them. The damage to your spine is irreversible. I'm sorry, but you need to understand that before you proceed any further."

At his words, I turned my head away. I drew in a ragged breath and closed my eyes. I knew that there was very little hope of a full recovery, but hearing it sound so final and... absolute, made me feel as though there was a weight placed on my chest that would never be lifted. Remembering my promise to myself, I brushed off my own self-pity and turned back around to face him.

"I understand."

Dr. Folger smiled. "Great. I'm sorry to be so grim, but fortunately, that's not the only thing I came here to tell you. You have been here for...," he glanced down at his clipboard, "two weeks, now. I think it's about time that you get to go home." The smile was still there, but I knew he didn't really care. He had tons more patients than just me. And I was considered a waste of space and money at my house-you can understand why I wasn't all that thrilled to be going back.

But I put on my poker face anyway. "That's fantastic. Thank you," I said to him. I looked down at my hands and waited for him to leave. When he did, I threw my head back onto my pillow and expressed my frustration to the ceiling in the form of a long, dramatic sigh.

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The ride home could only be described as absolute torture. It was awkwardly silent, and I could literally feel the tension radiating off of my parents. Well, mostly my dad. He at least cares about me some, and he gets uncomfortable when my mom and I are within ten feet of each other. When they picked me up, my mom made an overly fake show of fussing over me and trying to act like a normal concerned mother, while my dad stood a safe distance away, a scared look on his face. It actually amused me enough that I cracked a small smile.

Getting in the car was pretty humiliating. I had to be wheeled out and lifted into my seat. My teeth were clenched the whole time and I wanted nothing more than to just jump out of the nurses arms, push her over, and run as far away as possible. Every time I had to have somebody help me with mundane tasks I just felt more weak and more helpless, and I absolutely hated it. I'm not a fragile little butterfly. My body's not anymore breakable just because I can't use half of it, even though everybody I talk to seems to think it is.

When the miserable ride finally ended, I was forced to wait for my father to help me into my wheel chair. He gave my mother an irritated look as she walked away into the house, leaving him to assist me by himself. I kind of felt bad for him. He had to put up with her even more than I did.

Finally, I was wheeling myself up the pathway to the house. I had to be lifted again because I couldn't wheel up the steps, and my dear mother was still debating whether or not I was worth the money to put a ramp in somewhere. I guess there'll be no sneaking out for me.

Luckily, we have a guest bedroom on the first floor, so I didn't have to sleep on the couch. I swear there's a picture somewhere of my great-great-grandmother sitting on that same couch. It's disgusting.

"I'll get you some clothes and stuff from your room," my dad told me.

"Thanks," I muttered. I really hated relying on people to help me so much.

I wheeled myself slowly throughout the house. It all seemed different to me now, like it wasn't truly my home anymore-my whole life had changed. The pictures of my mother and father on the mantle looked off kilter and strange; the cabinets and shelves were dusty, the knick knacks and various objects placed on them seemingly dull and lifeless. In fact, that was a great word for the house. Lifeless. It looked like nobody had lived here for months, and whoever it was had had very bad taste. The previously soft tones of the walls now appeared to clash terribly with one another, almost enough to make me grimace. The whole place just felt...wrong to me.

I wheeled myself past the kitchen and into the office, where I pushed aside the rolling chair at the desk and logged on to the computer. I checked my email. Then my phone. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. I had texted and emailed a few of my closest friends, just checking in to tell them I was getting out of the hospital. Not a single one replied.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I told myself it would be okay. I was still alive. I was still ME.

But I really didn't want to do this alone.

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AN:

I know it took me a really long time to post this chapter, but I promise that for here on out I will post regularly (at least once a week) as much as possible. I know this chapter was also really short, but the next one will be longer and I'm gonna introduce Graham! Another thing is that my descriptions of what Brianna is feeling are based solely off of how I think I would feel in her shoes. I don't know what its actually like to be paralyzed, so I have to try and put myself in that situation.

If you've read the first chapter, which I'm assuming you have, then I just want you to know that I did go back and change some things because I realized that there were a few things that didn't make sense, such as how long she was in the hospital, and I never described how she was hurt. That's it, thank you guys for reading!