Chapter 2

I drifted to unconsicsnous sometime when we were close to the hospital.

  I heard the steady beep of the heart monitor and voices talking.

  "When will she wake up?" My mother's familiar voice asked.

  "Sometime soon," a crisp, clear voice answered.

  "I hope so,".

  On que, I slowly lifted my eyelids, blinking frantically.  Everyone turned to me, as if waiting for me to say something.  I pushed my legs forward to sit up, but winced as soon as I moved.  Oh yeah, I'm in the hospital, I hurt my leg.  Memory of the pain fled back to my mind.  "Hi." Wow.  That's educational.

  "Hi sweetie," Said my ballet  instructor with worryful eyes.

  I gave a pathetic smile, then realizing how lame I probably looked, looked down at my leg.  My right leg was covered completely in a stiff, white cast all the way up to the middle of my thigh.  I new I had a bad injury, but I didn't know it was that bad.  Then something occured to me.

  My forehead creased, "How long will it take for this to heal? Will I be able to dance soon?  Will I be able to dance in our next ballet? Will I be able to walk? Go to school? What will I be able to do? Oh my gosh? WhatamIgoingtodo?" all my words came out in a rush.  The heart monitor beeped faster.

  "Calm down honey, all your questions will be answered." This was a nurse this time, the doctor had left.

  My dad took my left hand.  I hadn't noticed him sitting in a chair by the hospital bed.  He had been incredibly quiet.

  The nurse stuck an IV into the wrist my dad was holding and I felt the pinch of the needle.  "What are you putting in me?"

"We have to put you under to do your surgery.  Your foot broke so badly that the doctors cannot set it without open your leg." The nurse answered.

  Surgery.  Oh god.  I hate surgery.  I felt like jumping up and running out of the hospital, tiny dress thingy and all, but my body was getting heavy.  Stupid meds.

  She slipped  a mask over my head that smelled like bubblegum.  Anasteasia kicked in and I couldn't remember anything beyond that point.  The last thing I felt was my father gently brushing his fingers over mine.


The End

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