Day 13: Write about a memory from your childhood. Good or bad. Give it new life and insight. From: http://writewithfey.blogspot.ca/2013/07/chrys-feys-30-day-writing-challenge.html
I honestly can’t tell you what is true and what is fake here in this story, but it is a childhood memory. The surgery was real for sure, and so was me being wheelchair bound 🙂
“Hey, Jay!” Carol called from the playground. “Want me to take you up the hill?” She motioned to the hill on the deserted side of the playground.
Wheel-chair bound Jay nodded. “Yeah! That would be fun!”
“Hey, Kylie, come with us,” Carol bounced from the swings and jumped onto the mulch.
“Sure! That sounds like fun!” Kylie jumped off the swings as well and ran towards the wheelchair. “I get to push her!”
“Alright, alright,” Carol laughed. They were halfway on the playground. To the right was a fence and to the left was a small hill that led towards a grass area with pavement going right across.
Jay smiled and talked easily as they headed left. She had just gotten out of surgery a few weeks ago for her hand and her foot. She was born with Amniotic Band Syndrome, where amniotic fluid in the womb wrapped around her fingers and her toes. The surgery was to make the fingers and toes on her left side look a bit neater.
Carol took over halfway, much to Kylie’s disgust. But she cooperated. It was a special thing to push the wheelchair. It wasn’t everyday someone came to school in a wheelchair – especially in grades one and two.
Soon enough the trio got to the top. Jay could see the whole school yard and smiled. “Thanks, that was fun!”
“It was,” Carol agreed and left the wheelchair to go talk with Kylie, leaving Jay alone. Within seconds she felt a lurch forward. Then she found herself hurdling down the pathway.
“HELP!” she screamed, heart beating faster through her veins. “GET OUT OF THE WAY!” she shouted to people in the way. She couldn’t control the chair. Looking back, she saw the two girls who led her up the hill sprinting towards her.
Faster and faster she was reaching the fence on the other side of the playground. She whipped past surprised teachers on duty and stunned students.
Within metres from the fence she felt a tug backward and slowly halted to a stop. Looking back, she saw Carol, out of breach, holding the wheelchair in place.
“Thanks,” Jay breathlessly thanked.
“Anytime,” Carol panted.
With a start, Jay woke up. Her covers were flown everywhere, and her bandaged up left leg and hand hurt. It was just a dream.