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When the New Day Begins

Marin: When the new day begins, I lie limp in my bed. This is the only place I feel safe and the suffering does not consume my body and spirit. Here I can rest and think about my life, reminiscing on the wonderful times I once had. I am paralyzed, I am an outsider. I long for the freedom to be able to move again. I miss walking along the beach sand, running through the trails, riding my bicycle on the vast stretches of pavement. The thought saddens me and makes me want to withdraw myself from the world. I feel thankful to be alive for another day when the sun shines high in the sky again, but there is nothing to live for anymore. I cannot walk and I must depend on a wheelchair to transport me. The legs I used to depend on lay there dead, the nerves completely destroyed. My hope has left me like a wind on the sea, leaving me bare like a tree in the months of winter. I must attempt to hobble downstairs now. I can smell the aromas of freshly cut strawberries and homemade pancakes. Maybe the delicious taste can take my mind off of my pathetic position.

Erin: When the new day begins, it doesn’t make a difference. I end up staying up past midnight anyways. I struggle very much with falling asleep. I worry about Marin and feel absolutely terrible about her situation. I was the one driving the blue, beat up jeep, blasting the music until we could feel the sound waves. We didn’t have a care in the world or respect for anybody. We were devoured by arrogance, overconfidence, and popularity. That day, Marin was gossiping about the new girl in her grade and telling me her dramatic stories about her newest boyfriend. But when we suddenly veered off the road, smashing into the guardrail, our happiness and distorted views on life immediately ended and we were given a true snapshot of reality. Marin could no longer move. I destroyed her dreams and future because of my inconsiderate and negligent ways. I knew we should have softened the music and been better aware of our surroundings, but it doesn’t matter anymore because I made the worst mistake of my life. Every day, I have black smears under my eyes from my smudged mascara. My lips are cracked and do not utter many words at all. They stay sealed, trying to keep the secrets of the past locked up forever. The embarrassment and guilt is now a part of the person I am today.

Anna: The new days begins. For me, this means the demons of the night have disappeared and left the place that I find myself in. It means that the sun shines and casts shadows across my face. Being the youngest of three girls in the family, I do not understand many of the topics the older people speak of. I do not understand when they say Marin cannot walk. Every day I wake up and look to see if she still uses her rolling chair, the one that she sits in and someone else pushes. I pray at night that it will be gone the next day, but it’s still here. Maybe we can play tag in the yard next weekend. She will be better by then. For now, I just create necklaces and bracelets by myself. I string each bead on carefully, making sure it does not get lost in the pink carpet I sit on. Each bead is a different color and size, and has a different story, like each person in the world does. I have never seen every person in the world, but I know nobody looks like I do. Even my two sisters look different than me. I am the only one with blonde hair that is so short that cannot be tied in a pony tail. I want it to be able to be put in braids, with little ribbons that Marin always promised me. But for now, it is too short and it still cannot be done. I can at least braid the hair of my dolls and use tiny bobby pins to secure it into place.

Andrew: The new day begins like another chapter in a book. Each day I go to the calendar in the kitchen and cross off the previous day with a black marker. To see my daughter go through the pain like she does breaks my heart. My heart is also broken when I see the never ending hospital bill, the tiny print scrolled across the paper, it telling me the thousands of dollars I owe. Honestly, I am not able to afford these outrageous costs. I have been trying to prolong her life, but I am not sure if I am able to do this anymore. Her paralyzed state has caused other complications and she still has symptoms of multiple head injuries from the accident. The stress is beginning to consume me like a disease. I don’t even have a place to escape, a place to let my worries run from me. My wife has left me, leaving me to survive and raise the children by my lonesome. She distanced herself a couple of years ago, and one day she just left. I have a feeling she did this because she wanted to escape the anxieties of this household. She could not watch her daughter slowly deteriorate and become a vegetable who did not even want to exist any longer. I understand her entirely. Though her decision to abandon the family hurt me tremendously, like her I am not sure how to handle my emotions. The only real form of escape is to not live any longer. The idea to take my own life has been planted in my head. I know I have a spare container of pain killers in the cupboard upstairs. Maybe I will swallow a few extra tablets when trying to rid myself of my headache one day. By doing this, I will hopefully reach a state of delirium and relaxation.

Maria: When the new day begins, I finally feel like I am on my way to freedom. I no longer feel trapped like a fish in a small bowl. Though memories of the family haunt me like a ghost in a horror film, I am hundreds of miles from the place of the car accident a few years ago. I live in Chicago, a bustling city that keeps me occupied and busy. I keep the existence of my children and husband alive within me by keeping tiny pictures of them in my wallet, but I do not remember them in many other ways. If I were to keep in frequent contact with them and visit often, the pain would not cease. That is the very reason why I made this decision to live on my own and withdraw from the sorrows of my old household. This choice was quite difficult to make when I saw the fear and grief in the blue eyes of my husband. He stood there motionless, his breaths too quiet to even be heard in the silent room. I knew I had to leave or the uneasiness and nervousness of my disabled daughter would have left me feeling completely empty. I pray she continues to be the lit candle in her blackened future. She is a beautiful young woman who has the ability to persevere and become someone extraordinary.





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xcisthechiz said...
Oct. 24, 2011 at 12:11 pm
I. Love. You. Wanna be friendsssss?
 
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