I was in a bad car accident. The doctors said I would never be able to walk again. My life-long dream of playing pro soccer ended, just because one person didn't think of others. I was lucky, my friend suffered massive brain damage and will never remember the first 17 years of his life. But I wasn't going to give up without a fight. I was determined to prove the stupid doctors wrong and walk again. I went through a very rigorous schedule, which I followed in a cautious manner.
Although many friends and family members came to visit while I was in Intensive Care, they all seemed to have something to say that they did not dare tell me. They fussed over me with wary concern. I felt safe with my loved ones who always reiterated their love for me.
After I moved to the next level of therapy, they gave me the good news: I would be able to live at home. I still had to use a wheelchair, and couldn't go up and down stairs. If it wasn't for my fortitude, I would still be alone in a hospital room. My therapy schedule became more flexible as the weeks went by, and I now could stand without having to hold onto something.
Then it happened. You know when you watch all those cute home videos, and the baby takes its first step? It seems as though the child knew all along how to walk. Well, that's sort of what happened to me. I stood up to stretch my legs and the doorbell rang. Without thinking, I answered it. Although my friends and family threw a huge party for me that night, I hardly remember anything but answering that door.
Before I knew it it was the day every child despises. But I was looking forward to my first day back at school. As I walked up to the doors, I felt intimidated, lacking in self-confidence I would need to get through a day of judgmental attitudes and watchful eyes. tf
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.