Me at 15's Arc

Chapter 2 of 6

The sprain happened on a Tuesday. I stepped wrong getting out of the car, my ankle folded under me, and suddenly I couldn't walk. Mom took me to the hospital and they wrapped it tight and sent me home with crutches. I practiced in the apartment hallway that night, trying to figure out how to move without looking stupid. By Wednesday I still couldn't put weight on it. Mom pulled the wheelchair out of the basement storage room and said I'd need it for school. I told her I'd wait until my ankle healed. She said no, I'd already missed enough days. Thursday morning she wheeled me up to the front entrance of the school and left me there. The building looked huge from the chair, all glass and brick spreading out in both directions. Everyone walking past could see me. I gripped my notebook in my lap and counted the doors. Five sets of them, all closed. I waited for someone to open one but nobody did. I sat there for three minutes before I rolled myself forward and pushed through alone. Inside, the hallways were too narrow. People had to move around me. I kept the notebook on my lap like a shield, kept my eyes down, kept rolling. A girl asked if I needed help and I said no even though I didn't know where I was going. I turned a corner and got stuck behind a group standing in the middle of the hall. They didn't move. I sat there until they noticed and stepped aside without looking at me. By lunch I'd figured out which hallways were wide enough and which routes to avoid. I wrote it all down in the notebook during study period. A map of how to get through the building without asking anyone for anything. Friday my ankle hurt less but I still needed the chair. I took the routes I'd mapped and didn't get stuck once. A boy held a door open for me without me asking and I said thank you. In English class the teacher handed back essays and mine had an A minus at the top. She'd written "strong voice" in the margin. I put the essay in my notebook with the map. That night I wrote four pages about a girl who learned to navigate a new city by herself, who didn't need anyone to tell her which way to go. The wheelchair was temporary but the routes were mine. I'd figured out how to move through this place on my own terms, and that was something that would still be true when I could walk again.