The Heart Exchange

Chapter Two

Nervous butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I made the finishing touches on my Monday outfit; skinny jeans, long sleeved maroon top and, of course, my trusty Monday beauties. No one ever saw my underwear but just knowing they matched the day of the week made me feel in control.

As per my plan, I wore my hair down and kept it straight using straighteners, taking extra care when nearing the area towards the base of my skull. That part took most of the impact when I fell doing a red run in Switzerland. I was a confident skier, yet all it took was a moment of distraction for my entire world to come crashing down. I had no memory of what happened but witnesses said I lost my balance and landed on my neck. Afterwards, I was airlifted to hospital, where I spent the following few weeks in ICU.

Great vacation for the Monroe family.

"You up, pumpkin?" asked Dad, peeking his head through the slight crack in my door.

Upon seeing me awake and dressed, he fully entered my bedroom and paid special attention to the many post-it notes decorating my wall.

"Have you been planning again?"

I followed his gaze towards a cluster of notes labelled, 'FIRST DAY OF JUNIOR YEAR!' and offered him a coy smile.

"Maybe?"

He smirked. "Go on, then. Run me through it."

He sat himself down on the edge of my bed and gestured for me to continue.

"Well, in order to avoid feeling...umm...feeling..."

I bit my lower lip in an attempt to gather my thoughts, though the action proved fruitless. I became angry and restless in my need to wait for such a simple word to present itself.

"Take your time, Maddison," encouraged Dad, somehow sensing my frustrations.

Why can't I do this?

"In order to avoid feeling...UGH!" I closed my eyes and pictured myself holding the blue ball of peace and focused wholeheartedly on the warm energy passing through my hands as a result of my imagination. Caroline taught me this technique a few weeks ago and had encouraged me to use it whenever I felt...THAT'S IT!

"Overwhelmed!" I delighted, happy to have finally got it.

"Well done," he praised, knowing full well that very situation would've ended in me having a meltdown at the beginning of my recovery.

"Thanks. So, as I was saying, in order to avoid feeling overwhelmed, I've decided to ask to be seated close to the door. That way, if I need to leave I can do so discreetly."

"Good idea."

"And, in between each class, I will hang back slightly. I don't want to be in the hallway when it's overcrowded. I might knock my head or something."

"Sounds like you have it all worked out," he stated, rubbing his hands together in glee. "Now, how about some porridge to set you up for a good day?"

"Don't forget the blueberries. They're supposed to stimulate the brain," I informed, checking over my outfit for the hundredth time.

I followed him downstairs and into the kitchen, clicking on the kettle as I passed. Pink post-it notes littered the cupboards, each one full of various instructions.

"Tea?" I asked, reaching for two mugs.

"Please," replied Dad, dispersing some porridge oats into a pan.

I set about prepping our beverages and silently congratulated myself when I managed the task without looking at the steps. It was the little things that made me realise I was improving. Small but significant.