Saved By You: Adopted By NateWantsToBattle

Physical Therapy

On Friday afternoon, Nate and I made our way up the coast for physical therapy back up in Portland. Nate and I both agreed that we would switch therapists when we got back so we could stay in the city. I stared out the window and watched the side of the road whiz by. We made small talk up until San Francisco. I fell asleep and spent the rest of the trip sleeping. Nate turned the music up and started humming to the songs. I woke to him humming Heathens by Twenty One Pilots. I joined in and we eventually started singing along. He sang perfectly, while I did my best. He patted my shoulder after the song ended. "Just keep trying, baby. It's not something you can be automatically good at." Rain drops signaled our arrival in Portland. It wasn't heavy, just a light sprinkle. Nate needed help finding the hospital. I pointed out the streets where to turn. The hospital was right next to my old apartment building. I looked up and I could see our living room window. The TV was still mounted on the wall above the mantle. Our cactus was sitting on the windowsill. Nate turned the car into the parking garage and parked in a handicapped spot next to the door. "Wow, I've never thought I would park here ever in my life." "It's not as glamorous as it seems. It was the first time though, you're not wrong." Nate pushed me in my chair and checked me into the front desk. I already knew where to go. Second floor, third room on the left, room 210. I had spent many a day sitting on the cushioned floor. The therapist gave me a hug as I rolled in. She said this week, we would work on balance and seeing if I could walk with some help. Last time, she tested my reflexes. She tapped my knees and I felt nothing. I doubted I could stand up without support, let alone walk. Nate helped me up and held me up by keeping a hand under my arms. I gripped the bars on either side of me and attempted to move my legs. Even if they were baby steps, it would have been a huge improvement from last time. I put all my effort into moving something. My first attempt, I fell to my knees. Then again and again and a fourth time after that. "I can't do this! It's impossible!" "Miranda, you just need to remember that the nerves in your legs are pretty much dead. Don't discourage yourself just yet." the therapist said, trying to comfort me. We tried again and yet again, I couldn't move. "I think we should give her a break." Nate suggested. The therapist nodded and left for lunch. Nate helped me back into my chair and I sighed. I didn't know what they expected from me. I tried everything to try and do anything. "How about we take a tour of Portland. Can you show me around?" Nate asked. I nodded and we rolled out of the hospital. "That's the apartment my family lived in before everything happened." "Can you still go in?" Nate asked. "It's technically in my name. So I guess we can." We crossed the road and Nate opened the door for me. I saw Dean, the front desk guy behind the desk. "Well, if it isn't Miranda. I never thought I'd see you again." "Same with you. I'm not staying though. I live in Los Angeles now. Dean, meet Nate. My new father." Dean shook Nate's hand. "It's nice to meet you, sir." "You too. Do you know Miranda well?" Dean shook his head. "Do I know her? Man do I have stories for you." "Can I go up to the apartment?" I asked. "Of course you can sweetheart. Here's the key." He handed me the smooth metal key and I rolled over to the elevator. Nate stayed behind and talked with Dean. I rode the elevator up to the fourth floor, rolled over to the right door, slid the key in and opened the door to my home. There were bills still on the table next to the door. No one needs to pay them now. I rolled into the main part of the large apartment. There was a blanket sitting in a bundle like someone had just put it there. The kitchen sink was empty and a fresh trash bag was sitting in the bin. I rolled down the hall and towards our rooms. Mom and Dad's door was closed. Mine and Evan's were still open. My old school backpack was sitting next to my bed, unzipped and a folder sticking out of it. Evan had a college textbook open on his desk. The book was open to a skeleton of a dog. He had planned to be a veterinarian after he graduated. I rolled into my room. The bed was neatly made with a mountain of pillows stacked up neatly. I grabbed my backpack and searched through it. An old copy of The Hunger Games was sitting on the bottom. My math homework was unfinished. I set the bag down and rolled into Evan's room. I didn't want to go through it. It would only bring back memories I wanted to stay buried. The bed was a mess and  there were some clothes on the floor. I opened up some of Evan's drawers and pictures of him and his friends. They were at a friend's cabin that weekend. I remembered because I was home alone that weekend. Mom and Dad were Italy. It was the weekend of the earthquake. 

Flashback 

My alarm went off at nine and I woke to the sun shining through my window. Evan was out that weekend and I was alone until Sunday evening. I got up, made a bowl of cereal and sat on the couch with Steven Universe on the TV. The phone rang a little after ten. I put my bowl down and got up to check it. It was an unknown number. "Hello?" I asked. "Is this the Foss household?" the person on the other side said. "Yes, this is Miranda Foss." "Are your parents Sara and Nicholas Foss?" "Yes they are. Is everything OK?" "I'm sorry dear, but they're dead." My hands felt slippery and I almost dropped the phone. "No, they can't be." "I'm sorry Ms. Foss, but their bodies were just identified. They were killed in an earthquake this morning." "OK, thank you sir." I hung up and set the phone down. I immediately ran to my room and collapsed on my bed. The TV was still on in the living room. I cried the whole day until I heard the front door open. "Miranda?" I got up and ran out to my brother's familiar voice. "Sweetie, come here." I ran into his arms and cried onto his chest. He held me for what felt like forever. "Please tell me Mom and Dad are OK. Tell me this is all a lie." Evan shook his head and tightened his hug. "I wish I could sweetheart. But this is happening." He let me go and I wiped my eyes. "Who's going to take care of us?" "Well, I will. I am old enough to be your legal guardian. So, it's just us now." At first, this all seemed like a big trick. That Mom and Dad were pulling a prank on us. But after a few weeks of living with Evan as my parent, it seemed more and more real. That this was all real and I needed to realize that. And a few weeks later, that wake up call smacked into us at 60 miles an hour. 

Three weeks later 

The radio was playing our favorite songs Mom and Dad made us listen to on road trips. Green Day and Mariah Carey floated in and out of my mind as we drove back up to Portland. Evan bopped his head when Basket Case came on. The traffic light turned green and Evan put his foot on the gas pedal. I turned my head out the driver's side window and saw a black minivan speeding towards us. I screamed and Evan looked out the window. He tried to speed up, but it was too late. 

End

My head jolted up before I could hear the crash again. I closed the drawer and sped out of the room. I left the apartment and got into the elevator. I put my head in my hand and cried as the car made its way down to the lobby. I knew I shouldn't have gone in. But my conscience said it would be OK. The elevator dinged and I saw Nate and Dean standing at the desk. I wiped my tears away and rolled over to the two. "Thanks Dean." I set the key on the desk. "Of course sweetheart. It was nice to see you again. And anytime you're in Portland, don't be afraid to come back. The key will always be here." I nodded. "We should get going. Thank you Dean." Nate said. He waved as we left the building. "We should get back to therapy. Come on." I faked a smile as we went back to the place that thought they could help. When that couldn't have been further from the truth.