Risking it All

5

After my incident at school, we moved. It wasn't just because of what Eliza did. I realized that it was getting harder for me to move around with my prosthetic leg. So we moved to a one-story house with no long flights of stairs to climb up. I liked the house a lot an realizes it was cozier than the old one. I wanted to start fresh, so instead of going to school, I asked my parents the first night we moved in if I could be homeschooled. My father was okay with it, since he was a teacher and he recommended a good homeschooling program his friend mentioned. But my mom was skeptical about it. "Why don't you give this one a try?" she had protested when I asked her. We were sitting in the living room that night. We sat on the couch facing each other. "It's not worth it, Mom," I told her. "I'm hardly ever in school, my grades suck, teachers hate me, I have no friends and-
"Woah," she said, interrupting my rant. "First of all, is because of the cancer, honey, not because of you."
"I never said it was!" I moan with frustration.
"But teachers don't hate you," she told me. "And you have plenty of friends." "What friend would go around school spreading rumors about you and telling everyone you have cancer?" Dad called from the kitchen. I gestured my arm towards him. "Yes, thank you, Dad," I said.
"Dominic," Mom warned. I saw Dad throw his hands up, surrendering. "I'm just letting her do what she wants," he said. "But you knew them and still didn't tell them about the cancer or your leg," Mom pointed out. My mouth dropped open in disbelieve. "First of all," I started. "I thought they had already knew. Second, I couldn't just walk up to them one day and tell them I have no left leg."
"Why not?" Mom asked, a bit annoyed with my repetitive response for the question. I couldn't take it anymore. "Because it's cancer, Mom!" I cried. "It's hard enough being new to a school, but it's harder when you have one leg. And you have no idea what I'm going through right now." I tried to run out of the living room, but my leg really hurt so it was like a limping gallop. I couldn't even run like a normal person. When I got to my room, I threw myself onto my bed and bawled my eyes out. I hadn't cried since my surgery, which felt like such a long time ago. Ten minutes after that, my mom came in. She sat beside me and ran her fingers through my hair, singing softly. It was the song she sang to help me stop crying after my surgery, even though then I was fourteen and I felt too old to be sang to. But it felt good then and it felt good that night. When I stopped crying, she grabbed a blanket, threw it over me, shut the lights off and climb in on the other side of me. She also reached down and took my prosthetic leg off. I didn't resist it. Somehow, she was good at calming me down. She talked to me while she rubbed my back. "You know," she said. "I was out this morning and I saw an ad about this coffee shop down the street. Every Tuesday and Thursday they have a open mic night and I thought you would be interested."
I thought about it. A song I had been practicing jumped into my head. I could sing "Team" by Lorde. Would I want to get up and perform for a bunch of people? Yeah, sure. Why not? "Yeah," I said. "I want to do it." I heard Mom nod and I slowly fell asleep listening to the words of the lullaby, "One Song."
One song, born in the heart, longing to be set free. Ringing out with joy into the open sky, lifting all with it's melody.
One word, spoken with care, warming an empty day. And the hope that's planted soon is shared by all, growing stronger in every way.
So round the spirit goes, touching all with the flow, bringing joy and laughter to a gloomy day.
So sing with joyful sound, and the smile that you have found, is like an echo, coming back to stay.