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My Lips are Sealed
It was cold that day, and truthfully, that’s all I can remember. From what I understand, I had an “accident.” Some full-blown idiot pulled a hit-and-run on me, leaving me paralyzed in one leg and permanently confined to this chair that carries me around so I can have a “normal life”. They say it’s supposed to make me have freedom despite my disabilities. Then why do I feel like I am locked into the very thing that’s allegedly going to give me liberty from my paralysis and merely viewing the world from below in my cell?
They say it was an accident, and the coward was just to afraid to take up for what he did. Problem is, I don’t believe that story. Problem is, only I have the facts, the facts I’m too scared to give.
I didn’t mean to get mixed up in all that, and I had no clue the severity of the situation I was subconsciously throwing myself into.
They were kind of fascinating, you know, in that untouchable, indestructible way. They walked with ease and grace, like they didn’t have a care in the world. Like they were free from guilt and pain and the rules that we all abide by in this world.
I got thrown into this group through a “friend” I made at school. His name was Zachary and he was funny and easygoing, just like they all were. I loved hanging out with him and was hoping that by his invitation to let me see some of his other friends, we were actually progressing towards that romantic phase of our relationship. I guess I’ll never know the real reason he took me that day.
Senior year in high school, I was trying to get enough money to go to college, so when I heard they had a plan to get some money they said “no one was using”, I figured, “Why not?” They had some sort of mystical power that put me under the delusion I wouldn’t get in trouble; I would get the money, no questions asked, no bumps in the road, and maybe Zach and I would start to hit it off through this little, “harmless” heist they were planning to pull.
Let me explain, I’m not a bad person, just a person with a bunch of bad choices on her record…. Well, that’s what everyone says when they get in trouble, isn’t it? Like they’re trying to generating some sympathy from the accuser. But lately, I’ve been wondering if maybe I am a bad person. I see what good choices I have made and then weigh them on a checks and balance scale with the bad.
The bad will always win.
So, I wonder, if you make that many bad choices, can your intentions always be the perfect? Can you always maintain your innocence by mere motive? I’m starting to believe not.
The worst part of this whole deal isn’t the physical spectrum, it’s the paralysis of knowing I have an evil inside of me that I mistook for good. The paralysis of suddenly feeling sorry for the “bad guys” on TV and books and movies, cause I realize I am one. And I wonder if they don’t know their evil either.
I know this, though, I’m not consumed by my dark side; I have a side that knows what’s good and what’s bad, I just have trouble hearing it. Because the day- the day we were going to have all our hard work paid off- I chickened out, hopped in my car that was previously designed to be the getaway car, and was making my way to the police station to turn them- and myself- in.
That’s when it happened. I remember turning up the heat in the car, and feeling silly for worrying about the temperature at a time like this. I remember hearing tires behind me. I remember the phone call from Zak telling me that if I didn’t turn around and take all the threats I had thrown at them back something bad was going to happen. I remember hanging up the phone, a little shaken. I remember seeing the police station in plain view and then… and then nothing.
The bright lights from the hospital, the awful food, the news when the doctor told me I would never walk again, that I remember better than anything.
But they’ll never know the truth of what happened that night, because when it comes to the big finale, the moment when it really matters, I can’t choose. And for the rest of my life, I’ll sit on the fence, my lips sealed like curtains hiding the truth securely away.