Chapter 2

Mrs. Toke's class and my next two classes went by with just a few stares here and a few whispers there. For the most part, people avoided me and I avoided people. It was a balance that everyone was okay with. I found that after some time if people steer clear of you they begin to focus on other things and you are placed in the background. I was happy to be in the background. I used to enjoy being in the spotlight but now I hate it. I hate when people's focus is on me because it is either due to lies, gossip, or pity; all of which I hate.

"Miss Murphy," I heard someone call from behind me. I turned around and saw Mrs. Taylor, our school counselor. She’s a tall and slender woman in her early thirties. Her hair was always in perfect ringlets and her makeup was always done to perfection. Mrs. Taylor was the epitome of business chic. Heads turned when she walked into a room and she knew that.

"Yes, Mrs. Taylor?" I asked politely. I could already guess what she was going to say to me because she has told me the same thing time and time again. I’m sure somewhere in her mind she felt as though she was helping me with her attempts but she just didn’t know when to stop.

"Miss Murphy, I just wanted to let you know that my door is always open. It's the beginning of the school year and I know how difficult it must be on you, with your condition and all. Please feel free to stop by any time." She gave me a smile which I assumed was meant to be genuine but I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. Instead I just nodded.

The one thing I hate about adults is that they try to fix you even when you can’t or don’t need to be fixed. I remember the first time Mrs. Taylor spoke to me. It was the day that I returned to school after three months in the hospital. I was still emotionally numb at the time and withdrawn. I was also trying to adapt to life in a wheelchair which isn’t as easy as one may think. She stopped me in the hallway and asked to see me in her office. I followed her and waited for her to speak. It was uncomfortably quiet for five minutes before she finally grew the nerve to tell me what she wanted with me.

"Miss Murphy," she started. "I have been made aware of your physical and emotional state. I know what you have gone through and I want you to know that my door is always open for students who need it. I don't want you to feel as though you are alone. There are many students here in this school who are disabled and others who have lost someone. You will get over it but until that time comes, I would like for you to check in with me. I have known students who become a little unstable because of their emotions and I would like to make sure that you don’t go through that. So with that, I'll see you around, Emma."

Mrs. Taylor's heart was in the right place I suppose, but she really needed to work on her social skills. Her little speech got on my nerves but I bit my tongue. I really didn't need her on my back all year so I decided that the best approach was to keep my mouth shut. Whenever Mrs. Taylor and I would talk, before my accident, she and I got along real well and she had given me great advice over the years. The problem was that since the accident she had been trying to act as though she knew what I am going through each day, which she really doesn't ; nobody truly does. She doesn't have the first clue as to what it's like for me emotionally, physically, or socially. She pretends that she can understand my life now, when in reality she doesn't know the first thing about me.

Once I assured Mrs. Taylor that I would come to her if the need ever arose - which it wouldn't - I made my way to the cafeteria. Lunch is one of my least favorite times of the school day. I really enjoyed it when I had a table full of friends to spend my lunch hour with but now I sit by myself. I became somewhat of a recluse after the growing up I did from the accident. Before the accident I had been excited about the next dance to go to or movie to attend, but now I am focused on just surviving this Hell of a life that I have been thrust into. It often feels like I was put into the extreme opposite social position that I used to have. I was once the most popular girl at this high school but now I am the outsider amongst those that were once friends.

As I waited in line for lunch, I began to think about what would happen this year. Last year was one of the worst of my life. Returning to school when my life was completely destroyed was pointless to me. My life took a very sharp turn and I didn't see any real reason to pretend like nothing changed. After everything that happened, returning to class made me feel like I was living a lie. I was no longer the naive Emma who thought the world was perfect and nothing could touch her. Sadly, I was awakened from that dream in the most horrible way; by losing the one thing dearest to me. Now, I see the world for what it is; a cold, dark, nightmarish hell.

"What can I get you?" Mrs. Judy asked. She had always been kind to me and treated me with respect instead of pity. She is one of the only true people at this school. She never put up pretenses or spoke down to me. She wore her heart on her sleeve and you couldn’t help but love her for it.

"I'll just take a burger and some fries, please," I told her with a small smile. She nodded and got my lunch together before handing me the tray. I handed her my money and she sat my change on the tray. She used to insist on carrying my tray for me until she realized that I preferred to do things for myself. I took the tray, grabbed a diet soda, and headed over to my usual table in the corner. It took practice but after a while I learned how to carry a lunch tray on my lap while I wheeled to the table. Carrying a lunch tray may seem like such a trivial thing to worry about, but when circumstances force you to rely on others, every bit of independence helps to regain the normalcy that you crave.

The table in the corner-my usual table-has only one occupant. I am the only one who sits there and I prefer it that way. It just seems that I can't relate to others anymore. Sometimes I wonder if I am an alien with how everyone treats me as though I have some kind of contagious disease. I've come to wonder if, perhaps, my destiny lies in me walking between life and existence; never truly belonging anywhere. The loneliness used to truly get to me. I used to go home and cry after school. I cried for two weeks straight until I forced myself to realize that its better this way. If I am alone then I can't get hurt when that person leaves. Being alone protects my heart and my mind. I didn’t know how much more either could take, so yes, solitude was the way it had to be.