As I grow older, as my own mortality becomes clearer with each passing day, I find myself turning more and more to the written word, perhaps hoping to leave something of myself behind when I pass to the great beyond. One of the places where I write is
http://www.gather.com/ entering various small writing contests held there. One of the groups I belong to, one of the contests I like to enter into is called the first line challenge. They give you the first line, and you run with it, create a story from their start. I recently entered one of these contests where the first line was, "Once upon a time..." Below is my story based on the challenge. I hope you enjoy the read.
Spring BreakOnce upon a time I believed in fairy tales, thought I would grow up, find my prince and live happily ever after. Much like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, that belief has vanished into the mists, along with the naïve thought that life is fair. Don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter, life is what it is, and we all must play the cards we are dealt, though at times I wish I could have a different hand.
It's raining today, the droplets sliding down the old weathered panes of the window as I stare out at the street below. There is a Starbucks on the corner, people dashing in as their umbrellas get caught in the door, and the drug store in the middle of the block seems busy as it always is. I watch, journal my thoughts as I ponder a reality I cannot change, wonder at what might have been.
Suppose I should explain my isolated life, the loneliness that comes from being a prisoner in my own little world, only my cat Scruffy to keep me company except on weekends when Mom and Dad come by to say hello...that is not exactly true, I do have my nurse, and twice a week an old German woman comes in to tidy my apartment, change the sheets and take care of any shopping I need done, but I don't count them, resent them on days when everything becomes to much.
Two years ago, a second year law student at NYU I was going home for spring break, my boyfriend and I planning on letting our parents know of our recent engagement. Our old Subaru was packed with six pillow cases of laundry, our laptops, couple of pillows and a cooler full of goodies to eat along the way. Rob had carefully mapped out our schedule; we would leave right after my evening class and drive through the night arriving early the next day. Right on schedule he arrived on campus just in time to pick me up. With a quick kiss we were back in the car and on our way, anxious to get on the road.
As we left campus I gave Mom a quick call on my cell phone, letting her know our trip home had begun. I was ringing Rob's sister as we approached the green light, and that is the last real memory I have of the moment that forever changed my life, perhaps in some ways stealing it away from me.
It was a month before I came out of my coma, opening my eyes to see Dad sitting in a chair beside my hospital bed, his hand clutching mine.
"Where am I?"
"Your in Mount Sinai Hospital Cathy, everything is going to be fine."
"Where's Rob, is he OK?"
Dad did not speak, tears welling up in his eyes.
I heard Mom speak up, "We're sorry sweetheart, he didn't make it, was killed instantly in the crash."
It was at that moment as I tried to sit up in shock that I realized I could not move, was paralyzed from the waist down.
My name is Cathy, I am a paraplegic because someone thought they could drink and drive. My life is not over, but it has been forever changed. I hope in sharing this story, in sharing my own pain that someone will think twice before they believe they too can drink and get behind the wheel of a car.