If you could change anything about yourself...

If you could change anything about yourself...

Lydia paused by the door of the bedroom for a moment, and then shut off the light as she walked out. Through the darkness, Marian could see her soft smile. She wore colorful scrubs, even though both Marian and her mother were fine with her wearing street clothes. Yet, as Lydia said, “old habits die hard.” She had worked in the pediatric intensive care unit for 10 years, and wearing scrubs was simply “part of her deal.” Marian didn’t particularly like the scrubs, as they made her feel like her home was a hospital. But, she wasn’t one to argue.

Marian was fifteen years old. The accident had happened five years ago, when she was just nine. She was riding her bike, her new Swanson two-wheeler. Her mother had gotten her a white basket for the front, with pink ribbons laced through it. In the basket were some N’Sync CDs, to share with her friend Ashley, to whose house she was going. Marian couldn’t wait to sing along to the peppy music with Ashley, and to show off her new bike. Ashley would be jealous, surely, but she was so good at hiding her jealousy behind her shy demeanour. Marian didn’t care; just the feel of her envy was satisfying enough.

Marian was so engrossed in thought, so excited to show off her new bike and dance along to N’Sync with Ashley, so overcome with 9-year old bliss, that she barely felt her feet moving. The endorphins produced by the new bike, the fun she was going to have, and the overall excitement of being a child on the move, freer than ever, made her feel like she was flying. She had unknowingly begun to pedal faster, then faster, then too fast. The turn onto Ashely's street came up almost out of nowhere, and Marian quickly moved the handlebars to the left. The turn was abrupt, and she felt the bike start to lose control, her hands clenching around the handlebars. She was not strong enough to hold on, and as she felt the bike begin to tip over, she was thrown from it. She was weightless in the air; as she flew, she innocently thought to herself “I fell off my bike. I wonder what everyone will think when they see how bruised I am!” In those moments she was thriving on her naivety, her feeling of indestructibility. She barely even felt herself hit the ground. Then, everything went black.

Being a quadriplegic is not just horrible. It’s not just terrible. It’s not just the worst thing ever. Well, yes, it is the worst thing ever. But more than that, it’s just not existing. Each morning Marian’s parents hurry out of the house for work; her mom to the local bank, her dad to the car dealership, and Marian stays with Lydia. Lydia gives her her daily sponge bath, brushes her teeth, and dresses her. Marian lies still, as it’s all she can do.

It was her mom’s decision to have her home-schooled. Each day Mrs. Sorcerile comes in for a few hours to give her lessons. Lydia then helps her with her homework. At first Ashley used to come over and visit, to tell Marian about the other kids at school. She’d fill her in on the gossip, excitedly relating the day’s events. These visits started to fade a few months after the accident, and now Marian hasn’t seen Ashley in two years.

Marian used to feel positive. She used to have hope, hope for a cure, hope for a miraculous recovery, hope to salvage her wasted life. As puberty has set in, and her emotions have begun to run wild, that hope has disappeared. She puts on a show for her parents, for Lydia, for Mrs. Sorcerile, but really all she wishes for is death. If only she had the courage to ask for help. Maybe Lydia would give her a hand? But Marian can’t let anyone know how weak she is; that she doesn’t possess the power to go on.

So each day is a meaningless hole. She feels nothing. No arms, no legs. So, she grabs onto her sadness, the only true feeling she will ever have. If she could change just one thing - well, it would be everything.