Skinny Love (completed)

I used my arms ...

I used my arms to come to the surface and right as I tried to pull my legs closer to me, my eyes widened as I saw the dislocated, thin thigh of mine then felt the excruciating, stabbing, raging, agonizing, unendurable, sharp, pain. I screamed and then began hyperventilating. Everyone was surrounding me. I wondered why no one was helping me. Lizzy was dripping wet in front of me and when she saw my leg, fainted. I cried for help and a boy who was already in the hot tub hoisted me up and someone else grabbed my waist and together they got me on the pool deck.

"Jasmine!"

Tristan.

"Jasmine!" Tristan found his way to me and knelt down. He studied my leg and looked shook. "Jasmine it's gonna be okay." I nodded as he placed his hands on my face.

"Tristan," I choked. "It hurts so bad."

"I know, baby, I know."

"You need to get her to the hospital," Jeff behind him said. Tristan nodded and picked me up. Jeff looked to Lizzy and that was all I saw as I clenched my eyes close.

"Tristan!" I cried as he lifted me up.

"It's gonna be okay." He reassured me. He ran outside to his truck and slipped me gently into the back seat. He raced to the hospital and I didn't realize because I'd passed out from the pain.

When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital room and my leg was in a blue cast. I began tearing up as the pain coursed through me. I looked around the room with my blurry vision and found Tristan asleep in a chair wearing jeans and my favorite sweatshirt of his.

"Tristan," I cried. I cried for him twice more then he woke up. He ran to me and hugged me. I clung to him for dear life and told him not to let go of me.

"Jasmine. Jasmine you gave me such a scare." I just cried and didn't want him to leave me. Dad soon entered the room and Tristan moved away so that dad could hug me.

"How are you feeling, Jazz?"

"Like I want to throw up."

My dad explained how I fractured my femur. It wasn't a simple oblique fracture, but a comminuted one. Surgery went well and I didn't have any blood clots or other life threatening possibilities. But I was asleep for three days and I had lost five pounds.

I felt so weak. I cried the whole time and hated seeing Tristan's sad face. He looked like he didn't know what to do.

He helped me into my wheelchair then pushed me out to dad's car. He said he would meet me at the house and I didn't say anything in return. Dad asked if I wanted something to eat and I just shook my head. I wasn't hungry.

Once we got home, Tristan wasn't far behind. He carried me to my room and laid me down on my bed. He asked if I wanted him to stay and I said no. He left and I heard his truck drive away. I cried some more and just hated life.

I can't run anymore. Not in the fall at least. This stupid fracture will take over a year to fully heal and be ready to run again. Why, God? WHY!? What have I done to deserve this? I can't move! My leg is gone. Something that's defined me for so long is gone. My mom's gone and now my leg is gone. And soon Tristan will be gone, too ... Hannah's gone. Miley's gone. And soon Lizzy will be, too. I hate this. Why?! Is this God's way of making me fat? Just sit around and eat while I wait for my leg to heal up?