Paraplegic (COMPLETED)

Chapter 11

I was thirteen when I snuck out after curfew to attend Chrissy Wilcox's party. It was a middle school graduation thing; celebrating the fact that we would soon be high school students. I used the oak tree outside my bedroom window to slip outside and escaped through the side gate down below. At the time, Chrissy had a boyfriend three years older than herself; he was sixteen and barely legal to drive. He came and picked me up at the end of our street. I remember feeling like he was so grown up and mature, seeing him expertly drive his mom's Honda Odyssey minivan. Now, with me being seventeen, I feel like such an idiot for feeling that way. He was just a child then. He could barely keep the van in between the lines on the road. It's truly amazing he didn't get us killed or at the very least pulled over by a cop. Chrissy's family didn't live far from us, but I remember having doubts the whole way there, wondering if sneaking out was such a good idea and what would happen if I were to get caught. All mother or father would have to do is check on me while I was sleeping—which they used to do from time to time when I was younger—and then realize I wasn't there. I would be grounded for an entire year!

Turns out, that's exactly what happened.

Mother freaked out and starting calling every single one of my friend's parents; everyone that I have ever spoken to, texted, emailed, tweeted, and Snapchatted since birth. I think she even called the deli lady at Walmart in a frantic rage of tears and desperation to find me. It was something like a quarter past two in the morning when mother and father, along with a half asleep three-year-old August, arrived at the Wilcox's. And no, mother couldn't be civilized and reasonable about her arrival. She just had to scream and holler, shouting how grounded I was and how much trouble I was in, and how I wouldn't see the light of day until I was old enough to have grandchildren. Fortunately, father being the well-balanced and composed individual that he is, was able to calm her down. However, I still suffered severe punishment. I had to squeegee the tile in our swimming pool each month for a year. But never did I think I would top an adventure such as that one.

That is until today.

My heart pounds harder inside of my chest, throbbing against my rib cage in an attempt to break free. The needle on the speedometer rises steadily as I increase in speed. It still has that new car smell. I'm having one of those moments where I feel as if I need to slap myself every couple of seconds to ensure that this isn't a dream. But what if I get caught? There's a knot in the pit of my stomach twisting itself tighter at the thought. Should I turn around and slip the car back inside the garage before anyone notice that it's missing? A portion of my conscience is telling me that's what I should do, but the vast majority commands me to press onward.

I push my foot down on the accelerator.

Aurora still hasn't said a word since we left the house. She lays her head against the rain splattered window, eyes lazily following the raindrops as they slide down the glass. I can't bear to see her like this any longer, so I try to cheer her up. "Hey, I was thinking while we're at the store we can pick up some peanut butter cup ice cream. Does that sound like a good idea?" She simply shrugs at my question.

By the time we arrive at the grocery store, the rain had waned to a drizzle, but the humidity had spiked.

My hair is so going to frizz! I'll have to buy some non-frizzing shampoo while I'm here.

Aurora unlatches her seat belt and shoves herself out the door. As we walk up to the building, an elderly woman carrying a brown paper bag stuffed with groceries stumbles through the automatic doors and out onto the sidewalk. The skin on her hands is shriveled and pale and her arms are these brittle twigs. She looks to be close to eighty years of age. Her eyes barely surpass the baguette and other groceries protruding from inside the bag. She stumbles some more, feeling around with her foot for where the sidewalk drops off into the parking lot. The length of the curb is covered with water from the previous rain. The woman steps off of the sidewalk, her foot plunging right into a rain puddle.