The child was injured beyond recognition. Her tiny bones were crushed and her limbs stretched in directions that evolution never intended them to go. Bruises covered her face and abdomen, black, blue and purple providing a narrow kaleidoscope of colour, replacing the slightly tanned skin that once radiated energy. Abrasions remained intermitted through the bruises, small amounts of dried blood providing the clot to the life that ran through her veins and arteries. Her back was remarkably clear of bruises, although her skin sunk in places where ribs had been crushed. Four small, round blisters sat in a line down her spine, caused when a burning cigarette was held on her skin until tobacco ash mixed with blood.
Still, the child was alive. Consciousness forcibly removed so that she was absent of pain and her body could begin to heal without the obstruction of emotional scars. Images of her physical had been photographed and reproduced, enlarged to gigantic proportions to be held up in court in an attempt to give life sentences to her perpetrators. The opportunity never came. Her parents were sentenced to death after a heroin overdose. They too, were the victims. Both with a childhood of abuse and adolescence filled with drugs, alcohol and an unwanted pregnancy. They never reached their twenty-first birthday. Their funerals were void of adults and their wake was held in an abandoned house, two lives celebrated with used syringes and a cocktail of illegal substances.
The nurses, providing the constant critical care of the little girl, wondered if she too, was destined to leave this world. If technological advances had a right to force life on this broken and disintegrated child until finally, she would be woken to a life without the only family she ever knew. Where would she end up if she ever recovered? Would she become yet another victim of societal oppression and lack of government responsibility? Shifted from home to home until she followed in the footsteps of her parents, the cycle never ending but the outcome always the same. Young lives, lost.
Strangers, making their own way through the intensive care unit to their loved ones, would stop and stare through the wide glass window, tears filling their eyes and falling. Some crying because the image was so shocking and sickening. Others crying for the guilt they felt, when they thanked external forces that their family member at least had someone to wake up to.
One couple lingered longer; Piper and Leo, only in ICU for an hour to present a cheque of raised funds. Standing at the window to her room, hand in hand and mouths open wide in terror, they asked questions of the nurses. They inquired as to who she was and what had happened to her. They demanded Doctors share her prognosis and treatment. They stood and whispered to each other, each day as they returned, the tears falling for different reasons. Weeks passed and still, they revisited daily and looked on; smiling as her body healed, the bruises long since faded and her bones in theory, becoming functional. Suddenly, the tears weren't produced from pity. They fell because something deeper tugged at their heartstrings, something, like parental love.
With the realisation came paperwork and visits from social services representatives carrying with them endless streams of questions and piles of papers to fill in. The simplest and most practical short-term solution was foster care, so the couple soon became the little girl's legal guardians.
"Congratulations. If she wakes…"
"Not 'if'." Piper demanded, "When. They began the process of bringing her back to consciousness yesterday." She gripped Leo's hand, the uncertainty of what that would bring, their ongoing concern.
The woman nodded, glancing at her watch. It was 5pm and she was supposed to finish up by 4pm on a Friday. She didn't have time for pleasantries. "When she wakes and spends some time with you, we can discuss adoption. Here is her birth certificate; it's all she has. "
Piper took the piece of paper and perused it quickly, a small smile crossing her face. "Finally, Leo." She whispered, they had been awaiting confirmation of her name and birth date; having simply addressed her with the only information they had been permitted to receive, her initials, 'M.C.'. "Madeline Cory." She raised her tear filled eyes to meet Leo's, neither of them noticing the impatient social worker disappear without further comment, her heart long since hardened to the cases of neglected and abused children.
Leo wrapped his arms tightly around his wife, pulling her to his chest and tenderly kissing her forehead. "I like it." Piper nodded, pressing her face into the nape of his neck as tears trickled down her cheeks. They had previously made light-hearted comments, joining in with the nursing staff in the belief that 'M.C.' initialised 'Miracle Child'. Despite the odds, Piper had still held secret hopes; nothing that was too dramatic, just a silent wish for what could never be and she couldn't stop the tears from falling, or the shaking of her shoulders. "We're going to take care of her Piper, she'll be okay." Leo insisted, tightening his hold on her and rocking gently, side to side.
Piper shook her head, raising her blotched cheeks off of his chest. "I know; it's not that. I'm just being stupid." She replied softly, shrugging her shoulders. "I thought that maybe her name was Melinda. That it was destiny."
Leo smiled sadly, bringing his hands to Piper's face and cupping her cheeks. "It is destiny, Piper. Madeline is our future."
"We saw it though. We had Melinda. We can't have children, Leo. I don't understand."
"Destiny is what people make it Piper. Some things happen that we can't change and we focus our energy on creating other stuff, we make things happen. Maybe we'll have Melinda one day. We can't predict the future Piper, just let what is to be, be."
Piper nodded slowly, slipping an arm around Leo's waist and resting her head to his shoulder. "Do you think she would like to be called, Maddy?"
Leo laughed lightly as they moved towards Madeline's room, "We can ask her eventually. I'm sure she would like it."
"She's going to need a lot of help." Piper sighed slowly, slipping inside the door and approaching her bed. She crouched down beside her still unconscious form and ran her index finger softly along her hairline. "A lot." She repeated in a whisper.
"Then she'll get it." Leo insisted, resting an open palm on Piper's back, watching as she leant over and pressed a kiss to Madeline's forehead. "We'll make sure of it." Piper nodded before she suddenly frowned, creasing her forehead and turning her attention to her handbag. "What is it?" Leo asked in confusion.
"Her birth certificate." Piper mumbled, retrieving the paper and unfolding it in her hand, glancing it over quickly. "It's her birthday tomorrow, Leo. She'll be four years old." Leo grinned and read from the paper, glancing at his watch to check the date. "I think we should get her something special, for when she's moved out of here and into a general ward."
"Like what?"
Piper shrugged, "I don't know. A doll or a teddy bear. Something that she can have with her all the time."
"I think that's a good idea."
A soft cry made both of them jump, and they stepped back from the bed quickly, staring as the body they had been holding vigil by for weeks, moved every so slightly. Leo reached quickly for the nurses' buzzer and seconds later two entered the room. They all sat for a few minutes with baited breath until her eyelids flickered open and she stared fearfully at each person. She whimpered and gripped the thin sheet in her small fists, her lower lip trembling. The nurses addressed her and explained where she was, asking her questions and checking her over. Finally, Piper knelt down and smiled warmly. "Hi." She said softly, "My name's Piper and this is Leo." She explained further, indicating to Leo.
The child recoiled, struggling to bring her stiff arms away from her side and cover her face with her hands. "Mommy? Daddy?" She whispered, her frightened eyes filling with tears. Piper suppressed a gasp, after all the abuse she must have received and the terrifying scenes she would have witnessed in her short life, Madeline still wanted her parents.
"It's alright." Piper soothed, casting a sideways glance at Leo. "I know everything is kind of scary right now and I bet your arms and legs are hurting a bit too, hey?" Madeline nodded weakly, her body seeming to shrink further into the small pillow and disappear below the sheet. "The doctor is on his way to see you. He'll stop you from hurting, maybe then you can go back to sleep for a little while."
Piper watched carefully as Madeline stared into her eyes, seemingly evaluating her for trustworthiness. "Are you a friend of Mommy's?"
Piper shook her head. "No, I don't know your Mom and Dad."
"Are they in the hospital too?"
"No sweetheart, they've gone away. You're going to be staying with Leo and I when you get out of hospital."
"I've stayed with other people before. When Mommy and Daddy got in trouble."
"Did you like that?" Piper questioned softly, aware that Madeline was struggling to keep her exhausted eyes open. She nodded and ever so slightly, the corners of her mouth turned up in the smallest of smiles. "You go back to sleep, Madeline. We'll be here when you wake up." Just as her eyes shut, Piper leaned forward and whispered a question to her ear. "Do you like dolls or teddy bears, Maddy?"
"Teddy bears."