Chapter 1
The smell of autumn flew past my warm face, blowing brown, crispy leaves aside. The swings my sister and I sat on creaked as we softly pushed ourselves into the air. I was lost in thought, thinking of how I will spend the rest of my life; until my sister started speaking...
"Mara." my sister spoke. I turned to face her, my eyes focusing on her pale face.
"Yes, Clara?" I asked.
"What are you going to do now? Since you can't really dance anymore..." she looked at my legs.
"I'm going to continue living my life." I smiled. "Crippled or not, I will continue living."
Clara tilted her head back so she could stare up at the cloud filled sky.
"I can't believe you're not angry at the man who did that to you." she whispered. Immediately, I knew she was talking about our car accident.
"That taxi driver needs to go to Hell." she continued. "He broke your magic legs. They danced with so much emotion." At this point, tears started filling both of our eyes.
Confused a bit? Here, I'll explain.
One day, when we were walking around the town, we walked so far that we ended up in the business center of our town. We got very tired, and decided to call a cab. Our house was a residential house, so it took about 15 minutes to get home. While we were in the taxi, as happy as can be, it happened. What I remember was that the car flipped and we landed upside down in the middle of a freeway. My sister said the ambulance came a little more than 10 minutes later, but I was unconscious, like the rest of the passengers. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, with tubes coming out of my body from everywhere. My sister Clara was sleeping in a chair, with just a band-aid on her forehead. . The doctor came in, and told me that I was paralyzed from the waist down, but there is a one-in-a-million chance I could make them work again. I started crying, and Clara woke up so she could comfort me. My mother was fine, with just some cuts and bruises, and was staying with my father because we were told he was in critical condition. So now, our mom is staying at the hospital with my dad, and Clara and I are staying with my grandparents until further notice.
"I miss mom and dad." I whispered back.
She turned, wiped her eyes, and shot me a confused face.
"There's no point in talking about something that already happened. It's out of our control." I continued, and threw my head back to face the sky. Tiny droplets of rain started to fall on my face, so I told Clara to help me in my wheelchair.
"Oh! You two are just in time for dinner!" our grandma laughed as we entered the room. It was filled with many aromas, from cinnamon to Strawberries.
"Aye! You two are just in time! Your grandma just made dinner! Take a seat, take a seat!" our grandpa laughed wholeheartedly.
"Grandma already said that Grandpa!" Clara laughed as we took our places at the table. Grandma and Grandpa followed suit.
Grandma then said a short prayer: "Lord, thank you for this meal. We pray for our dear son's health, that he will leave that hospital, joyful and healthy. Amen."
We dove in, and continued to talk about the day; what one of us learned today, or who we saw today. Right when Clara was in the middle of her sentence, mom came in, eyes tired, breaths stifled, quiet.
"He's dead." she cried as she fell to the ground. Clara quickly ran to her, picking her up.
"What are you saying?" Clara said, knowing exactly what my mom just said.
"Your father, Is dead!" our mother shouted again. Clara threw her arms around mother, and held her while she cried.
Our grandparents helped our mom to her room, and stayed with her to comfort her. Clara and I retired to our room, and Clara sat by the window facing the countryside, lost in thought. The sky was now cloudless, with a full moon shining bright in the sky. It looked like a cheese ball, perfectly yellow.
"...I can't believe dad is gone." Clara said slowly.
"I feel like he's still with us." I said, pushing my wheelchair over to her. I hugged her tightly, and whispered, "I know you were daddy's favorite girl, and that you wanted to become a doctor so you could help people; but remember what daddy said?"
Her eyes lowered, staring at her folded hands on her lap. Since it looked like she wasn't going to respond, I spoke.
"Mara, Clara." I said, trying to sound like the deep voice which is our father. "If I die, I want you to move to California with your mother. I want you to meet your role model, The King of Pop."
Clara turned to me, and hugged me back. That night was a sleepless, depressing night for all of us.