Paraplegic (COMPLETED)

Chapter 22

We pull into the grocery store's parking lot and I instinctively turn my face away from the building. I can't bear to look at it. It's the same store Aurora and I went to the day of the car wreck; the very last place she was ever seen alive.

I replay that day in my mind. Graduation was perfect, then the cookout thereafter. Who would have expected such a splendid day would evolve into an unceasing nightmare. One moment. One single moment in time can make the difference between life and death.

McKenzie, why did you sneak out and use your car? None of this would've happened if you'd just stayed at home. Aurora would still be here in this world.

The anxiety quickly returns, elevating my heartbeat, and my throat becomes as dry as the Sahara. That was the moment everything changed. That was the moment I lost her, the moment I lost myself. Why was it so important for me to feel special, to feel like the world was mine?

My heart feels painfully suppressed, like someone is driving it deeper and deeper into my chest. I'm startled by the sudden sound of mother's knuckles rapping against the window. How long had she been standing there? She had asked me if I wanted to come with her, but I didn't feel like exerting the energy, so I stayed in the van. I unlock the door and she places the groceries in the back.

The grocery store isn't more than a couple of miles from home, but I somehow manage to fall asleep during the short drive, waking up to the bumpy motions of mother guiding the van into the garage. She's still a little intimidated about driving it, I can tell. But with father at work, and I obviously can't drive, she's the only one who can take me to rehab. August had offered to drive, jokingly saying it couldn't be any harder than Need-for-Speed.

I grab a few of the grocery bags and set them on my lap before descending down the ramp. I've gotten pretty good at going down it and not rolling off the side like I did the first day. I still cringe at the thought of that moment. My head crashed to the cement driveway, leaving a throbbing pain that lasted for days thereafter. I guess Desiree's boot camp has been good for me after all. I have more strength in my arms than I did a few weeks ago.

I take my time moving inside the house and into the kitchen, keeping a steady hand on the grocery bags, while moving my wheelchair forward with just one arm. It's rather difficult.

As I arrive, I see the family cat perched on top of the refrigerator, staring at me with those golden-green eyes, his tailing sweeping slowly from side to side and his back arched like he's poised to pounce. I swear that thing is deriving a plan to kill me in my sleep.

Earlier, mother had said that we're having spaghetti for dinner, but I'm not that hungry. Since I had pasta for lunch at the Center, I decide to spend a few minutes alone at The Bluff before dinner. But before I can move towards the doorway, mother calls to me. "McKenzie, would you like to help me make dinner?" I shake my head, but she ignores my reaction and pushes me towards the dining table, placing the cutting board topped with an onion and cutting knife in front of me.

Half an hour later, the four of us are gathered around the dinner table. Father is talking about recent developments in his case, while August chimes in every couple of seconds, complaining how this new girl at school stole the Oreo cookie out of his lunch box.

Father must have noticed my nearly full plate of spaghetti because he pulls me from my thoughts. "Have you thought any more about college, Kenzie?"

I shift my eyes to the underside of the table, trying to will my legs to life. Nothing happens. Duh. "Dad, just let me get through this surgery first, alright?" He and mother exchange worrisome glances, but don't force the subject. What else were they expecting me to say?