17 October 2012
Chapter 1 Not My Family
I sit in my room. Staring out the window. Watching snow collect on the icy window pane. How I long to go outside. How I dream to frolic in the wonderland of white. But how can I? What can I do when I'm bound to a wheel chair? My name is Claire Parker. I'm thirteen, and hate my life with all my being. I'm paralyzed from the waist down. I may no longer partake in things most girls my age do. I've had to give up my freedom and all that gave me happiness. For this wheel chair keeps me prisoner, and trapped in this dingy old room. I wasn't always this way. I used to be a normal girl. I could walk, run, swim, stand, play, laugh, and have fun. I was now happy person who loved life, before six months ago. I remember it all very distinctly. The day started off as any other. I woke up that morning. It was Saturday, and I would get to spend time with my family today. I got dressed, and darted out of my room. Flew down the steps. The aroma of bacon, eggs, and pancakes filled the air. I hopped off the last step, and skipped joyfully into the kitchen. My mother was busy at the stove, my father was at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, and my seven year old little brother, Nicholas, was on the kitchen floor playing with his little toy cars. " Good morning dear," said my mother without looking up from the egg she was frying in her pan, "did you sleep well?" "I slept fine." I said walking to the table. "Well, I'm glad dear." she said with a smile. I sit on a chair watching my brother drive a tiny car over my mother's foot. "Nick," said my father looking up from the newspaper, "are you ready for your game today?" It was Nick's little league baseball teams first game that Saturday. He had never played baseball before, and was naturally very excited."Oh yeah," he said with a gleam in his eye," I'm gonna hit a home run." My father smiles. " Try to pace yourself Nick it's your first game." My mother stacks pancakes on to a plate, and puts it on the table. "Syrup," she says turning to retrieve some from the cabinet. She steps over Nick, and grabs the bottle from the cabinet. We all sat down to eat breakfast. After we were done we loaded up in the car, and drove to the little league baseball field. Little did we know we were never going to make it there. I could blame lots of things cars,alchohal, those who choose to abuse it. But it wouldn't matter. Because blaming something else doesn't change the drunk, or the red light he chose to run, or our car that he happened to hit, or my family that died in the collision. After they died I was taken to several foster homes. About three months later a family adopted me, a couple by the name of Sam and Michelle Green. They are kind people who welcomed me in, and yet I've done nothing but try to push them away. I've heard them talking to the adoption agency about it. They tell them " It's a gradual process just give her time.", but they are not my parents. My parents are dead. Their children are not my siblings. My sibling is dead. I know they're gone, and they will never come back. I know that you can't change fate when it is written. You also can't change adoption papers when they are signed, but a piece of paper doesn't govern who my family is. My heart does, and these people are not my family.
Paralyzed • Opuss № I