Cara She stared at the sunlit window. The sound of children playing filtered into her room with the golden rays of sunlight. She could smell the flowers outside and the light breeze rustled the wispy white curtains. "I want to get closer to that window," she thought. Like she'd been taught, she concentrated very hard on moving her hands to the wheels of her wheelchair. Slowly... don't waver that thought for a moment... carefully... Her hands, bent and limp moved to the wheels and collapsed there. She'd done it, a small triumph in a world of major obstacles. With the same concentration, she moved the wheelchair from the shadows around her bed to the warm sunshine coming through the window. The wheelchair bumped the teetering metal table by the window. A dirty spoon clattered to the floor. It didn't matter, there was no way she could have caught it in time or picked it up now. Someone else would later. In the light from the window, it was easier to see her bent body. Her back sagged forward and keeping her head up was a constant effort. Scrawny, pathetically thin legs hung to the metal footrests, legs whose only exercise was to be moved by the therapist. She gazed out the window into the park outside the hospital. There were many children there, laughing, playing... running. Yes, they were running everywhere, and so very quickly. It would take them seconds to travel a distance that took her minutes. The doctors had told her that she could never walk, her legs were much too weak. Sometimes she wondered why they allowed the children to come and torture the forlorn occupants of the hospital with their laughter and play. She was 16 now, really too old to stay in the Children's Hospital. There had been a time when she too was a child, young and happy. When the effort it took to smile or laugh was worth the while... "Cara? Cara! C'mon! Let's go out and play!" the young girl said, her blonde pony tails bouncing with delight. "All right," Cara said, but the words came out drawled and slurred. This did not deter her happy companion, and she pushed Cara's wheelchair toward the ramp. It was windy outside and the red-orange leaves were rolling merrily along the playground. The wind tugged at their hair and the other girl's pony tails began to wave wildly. Cara laughed. "Do you want to play ball?" her friend asked. Cara nodded, and her friend ran off to get a ball. She returned with a small bouncy red one and Cara smiled approvingly. "Okay now," the girl said. "I'm going to throw it to you and you must catch it!" Cara nodded again, too excited to speak. The girl threw the ball and it bounced off Cara's unresponding hands. The girl fetched the ball, "That's okay, we'll try again!" But neither "trying again" or the girl's enthusiasm seemed to help Cara catch the elusive rubber ball. The girl looked thoughtfully at Cara and Cara looked very frustrated. This was not turning out to be as much fun as she had originally thought. "I have an idea," the girl smiled broadly. "Put your arms out like this.." The girl demonstrated her idea, "and catch it by pulling your arms to your chest, okay?" Cara nodded, she was ready to try anything just to catch that red ball. The girl threw the ball lightly and carefully to Cara and its gentle arc placed it right between Cara's forearms. Cara carefully drew her arms and the ball the her chest, she had caught it! The other girl clapped wildly and Cara grinned back. "Yes," the older Cara by the window thought. "Those were good days." But, like the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. It was not long before the novelty of playing with her wore off and the young blonde found better things to do with her time. Oh, they still played when she asked, but pity was transparent through those young blue eyes. It wasn't long till her classmates began to see her differences as threatening, drawing the grownups attention away from them. Cara was something to be feared and mocked. She was no longer special, but a freak. At first their new moves were harmless, notes in her pencil box calling her a "Freak" and a "Cripple". This grew into taunting and insults, knowing all to well she could not defend herself, and anyone who did was seen as a "Freak-lover". She had mourned the loss of her friends, but she had no idea how much worse it could get... "Can't you go any faster, Crip?" the boy shouted as Cara made her way across the playground. "I'll just ignore, Jeffrey," Cara thought. "Maybe he'll go away." "You're wasting your time, Jeff," another boy, Steven, said loud enough for Cara to hear. "That's the speed her brain works!" Their laughter was loud and frightening, and Cara found it hard to ignore. "Just push the wheels," Cara thought. "Push... push... push..." "Can't you hear us, Crip?!" Jeff shouted. "Or do your ears not work right either?!" Cara shut her eyes, "Push.. push... push..." The other boy shoved the wheelchair and it rolled to a stop at the school's wall. Jeffrey and Steven came up behind her. Cara was trapped. "You know Steven," Jeff grinned. "Ya ever wonder what her children'll look like?" Steven laughed cruelly, "Ya ever wonder what her parents looked like?!" Something inside Cara snapped and she turned to face the boys and shouted, "Why do you have to be so mean to me!? What did I ever do to you? You have no reason to bother me, even though I'm different. Please, just leave me alone!" Even though her voice tended to slur a little, the words she said came shining through. A crowd of children was starting to gather, to watch what the boys next move would be. "Try and make us!" Jeff sneered. He grasped the handle bars of the wheelchair and violently tilted her back. Cara shrieked with surprise and fright. Encouraged by her response, Jeff kept her tilted back and helpless as he spun her round and round. The children had started laughing and shouting. Jeff began to preform for the crowd at Cara's expense. Her fear seemed to fuel their desire to torture her. "Stop! Please stop!" Cara shouted. "Take her to the hill!" someone shouted. "Yes, take her!" agreed another. "It'll be a blast!" Jeff turned abruptly and ran with her across the playground, the crowd of children following in his wake. The merriment and volume of the group was reminisent of a great parade or party. None of the adults could suspect the true reason for their happiness. Cara soon saw their destination. The steep bank that led down to the field. The same slope that children sledded down the winter, steep enough to cause the young ones the cry out as they slid down. Cara was about to go on the same roller coaster ride. "C'mon retard," Jeff told her. "This is gonna be fun!" "Please!" she begged her captor. "Please don't do this to me!" Desperately Cara looked around for someone to save her. It was then she saw the other girl. Her blonde hair no longer in pony tails, it was down to make her look more attractive to the boys. Her blue eyes danced merrily as she laughed, laughed at Cara fear and pain. As they neared the edge of the steep bank, Cara felt the wheelchair slow. Jeff was not a cruel boy, just a bully. His intent had been merely to scare her, not to hurt her. Before he could stop completely, his foot caught on the broken edge of the black top. Jeff stumbled and released the wheelchair teetering on the edge of the slope. The laughter ceased in a collective gasp as the wheelchair rolled on its own down the bank. They rushed forward, realizing too late their fatal mistake, trying to stop it as the wheelchair picks up speed. Cara frantically tried to make her hand move to the break lever. Too fast.. too fast... must slow down! Cara couldn't concentrate enough to make her hand move, she was too frightened. The wheels rattled, not made for the grassy slope or the speed she was travelling. Tears streaming down her cheeks, all Cara could do was scream. The crowd shouted a warning, but it was too little.. too late... A tear fell on her hand and glistened in the rays of sun from the window. She remembered the pain when she had hit the soccer goal post on the field. The knife-like pain in her legs and arm, and the blood the streamed from the cuts on her body. No one had taken responsibility for what was dubbed as "the accident" and she had been taken out of the school. She had even had to have an operation to repair some of the damage from the crash. Daddy had called her so strong, so brave, as she had rolled into the operating room. "How can someone be so strong, and yet not be able to walk or defend herself?" she pondered at the window. Daddy... she barely remembered Mom. She remembered the night she had left though. The night when she was still young and lived at home. Her mother had shouted, "I don't want to have anything to do with her! I don't even want to remember that I gave birth to her!" So Daddy had been all she'd known. Daddy had tried to help her be strong and give her every opportunity he could. After the attempt at public school, he had put her back in the hospital. He said it would give her the best care and protection. He now had to work in a job very far away to pay for her stay at the hospital. She rarely saw him anymore. That too was part of her misery. No one from her old school had ever come to visit her, not that she really expected them to. In her ward there was no one her age, much less anyone she could really talk to. All the children here were much younger and so severely handicapped they couldn't even speak. The nurses were so busy caring for them, they only had minimal time to be with her. She was so lonely. That was probably why she fell so deeply in love with Kris, a volunteer who use to come to visit her every Saturday. Kris was her age, a handsome fair young man. He was charming, intelligent and very funny. She'd look forward to every Saturday where he would greet her with enthusiasm and leave with a hug. Though she had had other volunteers keep her company in the past, but they had never cared about her and paled in comparison to the warmth that Kris brought with him. They'd spend afternoons talking or playing board games, but, it could not last forever. Nothing lasts forever... "Hi Cara," Kris smiled broadly, and then frowned. "I just stopped by to say 'Good-bye'. Today's my last day of volunteering, you know?" "I know," Cara said softly. "It's been a lot of fun," his smile was warm and so caring. "Yes," Cara replied, "I'll miss you very much." "I'll miss you too." Kris sadly and looked at his watch, "I really have to go. My friend is coming to pick me up soon and-" He started to turn and Cara called after him, "Please don't go!" Kris turned back to face her, "I'm sorry Cara, I must go.." "But you can't..." Cara told him. "You just can't..." "I don't want to go either," he replied sadly. "It's been really great, but I must get going..." Cara shook her head, "But... I love you." She thought he was different from all the other people in her life, all the other ones who had hurt her so much. She thought it would make a difference. She thought it would make him stay. She thought that he'd feel the same... and then they'd be able to be together forever. Kris stood stone still for a moment, not fully understanding what he'd just hard. He then spoke in a slow voice, as if to make sure that she understood every word he said, "Cara... that's very sweet of you... you're a wonderful kid and all, but... I don't feel that way about you... and even if I did, I already have a girlfriend... and... Oh Cara, you don't even know what you're saying-" "I do know what I'm saying!" Cara said fiercely. "Gods, Kris, please don't leave me!" "I'm so very sorry, Cara," Kris said as gently as he could. Tears sprang into Cara's eyes, "I thought you cared. I thought out of all the people here at least you'd care! That you would love me..." "I do love you, Cara," Kris told her. "Just not like that..." Cara said nothing, tears streamed down her face. She felt so foolish. He was just like all the others. How could she not have seen it? It was just a job... Cara didn't matter to him at all... "I think I better go now, Cara," Kris said quietly. "Good-bye..." He forced a smile, turned and walked out the door. That had been six months ago, and she had not forgotten him. She had never known another guy so wonderful, so warm. Despite what Kris had thought, she was sure she had been in love with him. A sparkle caught her eye as the curtains rustled in the breeze. She turned and saw the knife sitting next to the fork on her breakfast plate. It was an extra sharp knife, so she could cut her food without help, another small triumph in a world of major obstacles. She slowly reached for the knife and carefully closed her hand around the black plastic handle. Concentrating very hard she pulled the knife closer to her. "It would require a lot of concentration," she thought holding the knife firmly in her left hand, "but it won't hurt much compared to broken bones, the intervenus, or constant blood samples..." The sunlight from the window would warm her body and she would listen to the laughing children in the playground as the life drained from her. The blood would probably flow over the white linoleum floor. It will make quite a mess, but someone would clean it up. Cara's last burden for the world. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: I know that some of the people that just read this story have met me in person and know that I, like Cara, am in a wheelchair. Reading this, one might make false judgements about my life and my emotional state at the moment. The fact that both Cara (the FICTIONAL character) and I are in a wheelchair is where the similarities in us end. I didn't get thrown down a hill when I was young, I have supportive parents and I'm not suicidal... if one must, imagine my life to be the setting or stage, with Cara wandering in and manipulating it with her own personality... I just wanted to clear that up... -Etana*MiST-SAUCE00Cara Etana MiSTiGRiS 19941123H8P