To Save A Life

Chapter 1

            4 Years Ago

"Ow," I mumbled to myself as I stepped on my left foot, on the way to my third period English 7. I felt a tingle run up my leg starting from my toes. "What in the...?" And then the pain came. It felt as though I had broken my ankle, and let me tell you, it hurts. And as usual, I was the only one in the left in the hallway, except for those idiots that think that they can get out of class just by roaming the hidden-camera halls.

I started crying through the pain, my ankle swelling and turning an ugly shade of black and blue. Considering that not a lot of people were in the halls at that time, no one came to my rescue. Or so I thought.

"Jessica?! What's wrong, Hun?" The counselor asked, worry shaping her young face.

"I...my...my ankle." I managed to get through the wails of pain.

"What happened?!"

I just shook my head at her question, fully knowing that if I unclenched my teeth, and opened my mouth all that would come out would be screams.

"Okay..., can you walk?" Ms. Amy, our counselor asked. Again I shook my head. I could barely move my foot at all, how does she expect me to walk? I knew standing any time soon wouldn’t happen.

"Okay, hold on a second. I'll be right back." Ms. Amy disappeared, I'm assuming to call the office about me. See, we have a small school, with only about 70-80 students. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, 'Where are you?!' Well, I am in an itty-bitty teeny-tiny little town called Marion, in the state of North Dakota. What? You're STILL asking where? My God people, look it up. It's between Jamestown and Valley City. Or if that doesn't help, close to Fargo, but a little further away to Bismarck than it is to Fargo. Yeah. There.

So considering that we have a small school, thank God, we don't have and ‘infirmary’. Just an awesome teacher that knows a lot about injuries and stuff like that. And no, he's not one of those young teachers that somehow always falls in love with the 'nobody' (me), and marries them and has a happily ever after. Oh my God. That's hilarious. Guys, he just turned 50-something. I think; not exactly sure. But still.

Ms. Amy was still talking on the phone; “Yeah, she said it's her ankle. No, she can't walk. Okay, I'll do that. Okay. Bye."  She came back out, mumbling something about annoying superintendents or something like that. Then, it was like she remembered that I was there, and said "Mr. Handt is on his way up, Jess."

Mr. Handt, or the awesome teacher who knows about injuries as you may know him, came through the hall a few minutes later, but what felt like an hour later. "Jessica, what happened?" He asked.

Ms. Amy answered him, after looking at my pleading, in pain face, "She told me it was her ankle."

"Okay, lemme see, Jess." He gently picked up my left leg, and started rolling my pant leg up. I hissed in pain at the contact, and Mr. Handt mumbled a 'sorry, it'll be alright'.

"Is it broken?" Ms. Amy asked him carefully.

"I'm not sure, but there's a chance that it is. She needs to go to the hospital to get it checked out." He answered her, worry making his voice sound completely different than the normal, calm demeanor that he usually has. And that scares me, even more than I already am.