All That I Want

Chapter 1

I was in my twentieth race. I zipped by a S.R. Fighter and now I was second. My father warned me about this bad ass pilot. He had a few tricks up his sleeve, but I wasn't paying attention. I was focused on winning and earning points. I wanted to make my family proud. I wanted to be a Galaxy Champion just like my ancestors before me. In my family, if you were a pilot, a coach, or a mechanic, you were destined for great things. You were always good at what you did. For me, I was a pilot and I was pretty good for being sixteen years old. Not only was I a good pilot, I was equally good at being a mechanic.

The thrill of speed coursed my veins. I couldn't get enough of racing. I practiced every morning and every night. During the day, my mom would tutor me. I didn't like school, so when I could drop out I did. My parents didn't mind, they thought I would go back. There was only one dream I had, and it was to be just like my father.

My knuckles were white as I gripped the accelerator. Missiles were shooting from behind. The other pilots were trying to knock me out of the race. I slammed my fists down and Emma, the S.R Fighter, sped up leaving everyone else in the dust. There was an advantaged for having a small fighter; it can quickly accelerate. I came up behind Badass, hoping I could knock him out of the race. Instead, Badass, threw a grappling hook on the front end of my S.R. Fighter. I felt my Fighter turn around and swing into the finish line pole. Then gravity showed me he was still ineffect. I did about a twenty foot freefall; good thing for safety belts.

"ZOEY!" My father screamed.

I heard him scream once before the speaker on my S.R. Fighter got damaged. I got pretty damaged myself and my father's S.R. Fighter was on fire. It was just a crash, right? Everybody crashes at least once. But this was Badass's fault.

"Zoey, Zoey, Zoey, Zoey!" My father repeated over, screaming, as he lifted the hood of his S.R. Fighter. He jumped in and stood next to me.

"Hey, Father, did I lose?" I asked.

"You got second. You still won points." My father answered. He looked at my right side and gasped.

I looked at him. His eyes widened with shock. He unclasped my seat belt and swooped me up. I looked at my right side. My right arm and leg was gone! The roof and side of the Fighter had been falling apart. Today, after the race, we were going to fix it. I couldn't believe it, the roof and side had amputated my arm and leg.

My father carried me out of the S.R. Fighter. "Help! I need the Emergency Fighter over here!"

"I'm sorry, Father. I should have listened." I murmured, "I was focused on winning."

"No, it's fine. You've done a great job." He smiled.

Doctors ran over to us and then my father carried me to the Emergency Fighter. I was rushed over to the hospital where I was quickly placed into surgery. I drifted to sleep...

I awoke in a hospital bed with my parents looking at me, "Oh, honey, you're finally awake."

My father kissed my forehead and then backed away. My mother hugged me tightly. I lifted my arms up to hug her. Then I realized I had two arms! I looked at me right arm. It was a metal, mechanical arm. My mother let go and I flew the sheets off of me and saw I also had a metal, mechanical leg.

"Why?" I asked.

"It was a lot of money but it was totally worth it, dear." My mother smiled, "We had to use a little bit of our retirement money."

"But why?" I repeated. They still didn't answer my question.

"You can't steer with one hand." My father teased.

"Father, I can't race." I murmured.

"But it's your dream since you could talk." My father said, "We did this so you could race."

"Mother, Father, I know you meant well, but my racing days are over." I muttered. "I'm sorry but I can't race anymore."

"Honey but-" My mother began.

"We understand, Sweetie. No sweat." My father interrupted.

"Look, it's going to take me a while to recover and when I'm done, I won't have enough points. I'm not going to wait ten years for the next race." I explained, "It's over. Now, could you please leave me alone? I want more rest." It was a partial lie but it was good enough.

"Sure, honey." My mother smiled, forcing it and she kissed my forehead. They walked out of my room and I closed my eyes.

After a couple of weeks, I was able to go home. But I wasn't fully recovered yet. I was ordered by the doctor to take it easy, and that's what I did. I wasn't myself. I laid in bed for hours. Then I heard a noise coming from the garage. I got up and wobbled down the stairs. I walked out of the house and got to the garage. My parents were talking to a man in a jumpsuit.

"There is no point to fixing it, sir. I can haul it off to the junkyard for you." The man grumbled.

"Fine, take it," My father said.

"No!" I shouted, and I hobbled into the garage. "There is a point to fixing it. I will fix it. Now, get out of here, sir."

"It's an old broken down S.R. Fighter. When you're tired of fixing it, little girl, you can call me and I'll haul it away." The man said as he walked out of the garage.

"Sweetie, I don't want to see her in the junkyard but her roof collapsed, her side is dented, her engine caught on fire, and she's old. Just put her out of her misery." My father explained.

"No, Father, I believe I can fix her. She's not just any old S.R. Fighter. She's a Galaxy Champion S.R. Fighter." I smiled, "Emma took you to the Galaxy Championship. She's a trophy. I broke her so I want to fix her for you."

My father just smiled. "You remind me so much of my grandpa. He was a retired pilot that fixed broken down S.R. Fighters just because he thought each one of those ships was special. If you want to fix Emma, go ahead; just don't get your hopes up."