Snatched by Probability

Chapter ~ Two

“Hello, Taryn, Mrs. Fitzgerald, my name is Dr. Scott. Now let’s talk about your recovery time, I understand you are eager to go home?” I would describe how he looks, but that doesn’t really matter to me anymore. Yeah, I’m blind, but I could create a picture in my mind of how he looks. In my mind I pictured him the typical tall, dark, and handsome. And I even went as far as to imagine him wearing cowboy boots even though Texas is the next few states over, he likes being a cowboy right here in California. The thought makes me laugh at little and I’m glad I can avoid the weird looks I surely would have gotten.

“She really is. I guess it’s a good sign, it has to be, right?” The old me would have gotten mad at her for speaking for me, but she just talked a lot when she got nervous. I can tell my dad followed the doctor back in here when he starts whispering reassuring words to my mom. I can picture them standing there together, his arm around her. Since I don’t know what the hospital room looks like, the wall behind them is white, like they are in a lingo where colors don’t exist. Except for the dark chocolate shade of my mom’s hair and the dark shade with graying streaks of my dad’s hair, everything else is white.

I think for a second that I could get used to this, me having a great enough imagination to make up for my lack of vision. If I just had somebody to describe everything to me, it’d be golden. “I’m sure it’s a good sign. Now, let me check to see how your wounds are healing.” I hear the sound of him washing his hands before snapping a glove on. I think he made the snapping noise for my benefit, just so I know that he’s being sanitary. Except I can feel when he lifts the blanket up, exposing my leg to cold air, and I can feel and hear the tear of the bandage on my leg. I only feel a little when he moves my skin on my knee around. I can’t help but flinch when he rips off the rest of the bandage, claiming he’ll just refresh it since he’s here.

“Now, you’ll need about a week or two of PT since your kneecap was dislocated so much. But after that, you’re free to go.” I can hear the smile in his voice, as if me getting out of here is the best gift he can give me. And I’m sure he thinks so, he really does. But the thought caused butterflies to erupt in my stomach. Could I handle going back? To the same old room, the same old people, but me being totally changed? I guess we’d have to see.

The next couple of weeks were different. PT was difficult, but luckily the guy was encouraging and said I was doing better than they all thought I would. I had a small thought in the back of my head that told me that he says this to everyone to increase positive results. Either way, it was definitely encouraging me.

It was hard to tell without my eyesight, but I’m pretty sure my parents and Andy tip toed around me. Literally. And it was really stupid because I wasn’t going to break. Something bad had happened to me, and I just wanted to move on. I didn’t want a pity party for something that wasn’t going to change no matter how hard I wish. I wasn’t going to go home and crawl up in a ball and lay there, hoping my life will remember to press the pause button for my mini meltdown.

So that was my thought process when I got Andy alone one day to ask her a favor. “I need you to sneak me out of here, even if just for a few hours. I need to be outside.” It was true in what you heard, since I lack a sense, my other senses have magnified. I’m not saying I could hear every heart beat and pin dropping, but it was significantly better.

I think I was getting use to my lack of eyesight because I could picture Andy’s eyes popping out of her pretty little blonde head as she sputtered out stupid questions. “What if we get caught?”

“Well, I’m almost eighteen so they can’t fight me too bad on that. It’s just outside, please Andy. I need this. I thought I was over being trapped inside against my will.” Alright, I understand that the last sentence was definitely a low blow, but I really needed to get out of this hospital.

I heard a little sniffling and realized I probably upset Andy with my statement. “Andy, I’m sorry. I just really want to get out of here. Help me?”

I could tell that Andy was trying to pull herself back together. She was always the efficient younger sister. I’m not saying that I was the rebel and she was the perfect child. I’m just saying that she was a little better at the smaller things. And boy, do they add up.

I’m not going to sit here and say that I had a rough childhood growing up, because I didn’t. My dad worked, my mom was a stay at home mom. He brought in enough money for us to live comfortably, and it let my mom stay home so I got all the attention I wanted. Andy is a year younger than me but we grew up like we were twins. I was the ‘great big sister’ and Andy followed me like the younger sibling usually does. I wouldn’t say we all had a role to play, but everything was just ordinary.

We were the family that would watch the news, all the bad things happening. The kidnappings, the wars, the explosions. We would always get these sad expressions on our face, have a conversation that for every other family takes place once a year during Thanksgiving before moving on with our day. My parents were Christians but once Andy I were the ages of being able to say no, sleeping in and reruns of cartoons became our Sundays. They didn’t believe in pressing their religion on us and that included their girls. And ever since we got into high school, my mom found out on Oprah or some equally stupid show that she should be working too. Something about equality. And ever since she got a job, I can basically do anything I want.

But now, our world was on a serious tilt-a-whirl and my parents were freaking out. I’m surprised they weren’t here now. It took everyone the longest time to convince my parents to go home and take care of themselves. I don’t know how they thought hovering was going to make my current state any better. “Andy, come help me out of the bed.” I was all for being independent but I still hadn’t gotten used to walking around on my own. Since I’ve been in PT for two weeks, I figure I can limp my way outside.

“Yeah, hold on. I’m texting Aaron back really quick.” Aaron was her overbearingly shy boyfriend. Usually people find shy people adorable, but this guy was shy to the point of it being too much. I’m sure I rolled my eyes for old times’ sake, but I couldn’t feel anything. I’m not sure she noticed either. I wonder how I would react if it was Andy that was in the situation and not me. I’m sure I would bust her out as soon as she spoke the word. I wasn’t worried about my parents coming back and freaking out or anything, they would have to deal with me need a breath of fresh air sometimes.  “Alright, here put your arm around my shoulders.” As she says this she comes over and lifts my arm to her shoulders. I’m a couple inches taller than her but I’m remembering all the differences between us.

She has dirty blond hair, the brown threaded through it naturally, and brown eyes that are shiny and pretty. We are both pretty thin, but I have darker hair that’s brown black and hazel eyes. It’s not like I’m the black sheep of the family. I got my hair from my father and eyes from my mother, and my mother and Haley used to have the same color until mom started dying it. Mom thinks that she got her eyes from grandma on her side. I was thankful that my imagination was better than I thought, so I can picture my parents and Haley standing there smiling at me. I vow to myself as I sneakily limp outside with Haley that I will try my very hardest to make things go back to normal.