Chapter 1: The Bus
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP. BEEP-BEEP- BEEP.
I roll over to turn my alarm clock off. Today is April 18, 2013 - a week after my 16th birthday. I’m going to write my G1 test after school today. I roll out of bed and shove my glasses over my nose. I get ready for school unusually quickly. I want to get there early so I can brag to my friends about going for my license later today. I scramble to put my clothes on, set meticulously on my bed the night before- an action reserved for special occasions. I scramble up the stairs and devour an apple and granola bar before sticking my feet into my brand new fluorescent orange running shoes and running out the door.
As I turn the corner towards my bus stop, I see the bus waiting, a few other students loading. I sprint down the road and cross to the other side without thinking. I don’t make contact with the driver. I’ve done this many times before. But for some reason, maybe my nerves, this time is different. I trip over an untied lace and tumble to the ground. Just as I do, the bus lurches forward. Straight towards me. I try to squirm out of the way, but the 100lb tire is no match for my scrawny leg. I watch in horror as the bus rolls over as if my leg is a leaf on the ground. I turn to see my younger brother strolling down the sidewalk with his backpack.
I don’t even get a word out before Matthew takes action. He tosses his bag down and races back towards our house. The bus driver says something into his radio and comes out to see if he can help. I wait for what seems like hours until my dad comes running around the corner. I watch as he frantically yanks his old fashioned cell phone out of his pocket and dials 911. I try to prop myself up with my backpack, but fall to the side. My leg is throbbing.
“Yes, hi, my daughter was just hit by her school bus, and she needs an ambulance. We’re at 54 June crescent. Please hurry,” My dad helps me to the sidewalk where I wait while he takes Matthew back towards our house. The bus driver gets back in the bus and drives away.
I watch as Matthew and Dad disappear behind the row of houses. It’s not long before the roar of sirens deafens the streets. I wave helplessly as the ambulance screeches to a stop. Two burly male paramedics jump out of the front of the vehicle, while two more remove a stretcher from the back. My dad returns to the scene of the accident.
“Are you her father?” the driver asks.
“Yes,”
“We’ll meet you at Trafalgar Medical Center in 10 minutes,” says the passenger, lifting me onto the stretcher and stabilizing my leg in a cardboard cast-like contraption.
The remaining two paramedics load me into the back of the ambulance and lock the brakes on the stretcher. They pull the back doors closed, and we’re racing in no time.
“How are you doing Melissa?”
“I’m OK, my leg really hurts though.”
The younger paramedic puts an IV in my arm and injects medication into the end with a long syringe. The older paramedic moves to my legs and starts prodding around.
“Can you feel that?”
“Yeah, you’re touching just below the left knee on the back…. now the left ankle and toes…”
The sensation stops.
“Can you feel that?”
“No,”
I see the paramedic reach for his radio.
“16-year-old female on route. Unresponsive to touch on right leg.”
Soon I can’t feel anything on the other leg either. The ambulance rips around corners towards the hospital, before finally pulling into the parking lot.
YOU ARE READING
Life on Wheels
General Fiction2 weeks after her 16th birthday, Melissa is in a horrific accident and sustains a life altering injury. She is forced to face discrimination from many as she attempts to integrate back into society. From Crown City Rehab, to shopping at her favourit...
