But…I was alive.
Cherry Bomb, one of my greatest friends, was not.
He’d lost his life.
I’d only lost my legs.
I would survive, if only for him.
“We hitchhiked,” Bella replied cheerfully. “We thought about asking him for money to rent a car…but guess we’re going to have to get creative.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
Not at all.
“You know,” my mother drawled. “It’s almost kind of sad that you don’t have any legs anymore. You can’t continue the precious job that you loved so much. The one that you wanted to do for your entire life.” She paused. “It’s almost like…karma.”
Bella snickered. “I think I’m still a signer on your account.”
My belly clenched. She wasn’t…but she was damn convincing when she wanted to be.
“You wouldn’t,” I growled.
“You don’t know what I would or wouldn’t do anymore. You don’t even know me.” She sighed. “Have a good life, Pascha. I’d say see you around, but we don’t travel in the same circles. Plus, my side of the road is definitely not handicap accessible.”
With that, she left, too.
“I hate them,” Diana growled.
I looked over at the woman that, for all intents and purposes, had been more of a mother to me than my own mother, and smiled.
“It’ll be okay,” I promised.
She looked down at me with tears streaming down her face.
“I’m going to make sure that you get the best of the best when it comes to prosthetics,” she promised. “I will not stop until we have every grant imaginable. You will walk again, Pascha Eidolon Vineyard.”
The promise in her tone was enough to make my heart pound.
I just hoped she was right.
The idea of being bound to a wheelchair for the rest of my life was scary stuff.
And my mother was right about something.
I hadn’t wanted to do anything else with my life but be in the Army. Without the Army as my job…what would I do?Chapter 1Oakley: Your vagina is named after the last TV show you watched. What is it?
Ford: Supernatural
-Text from Oakley to Ford
Oakley
“Her kidneys are not functioning properly,” the doctor said to the room at large. “Her kidneys are functioning at about twenty percent. I suspect, by the end of the week, they’ll be at zero.”
My mother’s voice hitched.
“So what does that mean?” she asked.
“It means that, for the rest of her life, or until we can find her a kidney, she’ll have to be on hemodialysis. It’s when the blood is cleaned using a machine,” he explained quickly.
“I just don’t understand. How did this happen?” my father asked.
The doctor looked just as baffled about it as we were.
“The virus that she acquired got out of control fast.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how or why it happened, just that it did.”
That was true.
“What’s the life expectancy for someone on dialysis?” Dad asked.
“Five to ten years. But there are certain cases where the patients have lived up to thirty years.” The doctor shrugged. “Unfortunately, we just don’t know.”
“And we’re not a match,” my mother repeated.
“No. None of you are,” he continued.
He’d already said that earlier in the conversation, but I knew that they were just as shocked as I was to learn that I’d have to be tethered by a cord for the rest of my life.
Three times a week, unless I could find a kidney, I’d be chained to the hospital for hours at a time.
My job would be no more.
My life as I knew it before this illness was now gone. In its place was a bleak existence.
I couldn’t have kids—that was too risky.
I wouldn’t be finding a husband. Why subject him to a life—a possibly short life at that—of living like I was going to have to now?
At my age, I was now considered damaged goods.
I would never get the fairy tale that I’d always dreamed of, and that sucked.
I’d gone to school for years, become exactly what I wanted to be in life, and what did I have to show for it?
Nothing, that was what.
“Is there anything else…”
“Dad,” I said quietly. “Stop.”
My father’s jaw went tight as his eyes turned to me.
“Baby…”
I shook my head. “Y’all were tested yesterday. Ford was tested. All of the Dixie Wardens were tested. Stop.”
My father seemed to just…deflate.
“But I can’t,” he whispered, sounding broken.
My mother’s breath caught, and I turned my gaze to her.
“It’ll be okay,” I promised, telling her that it would even though I was sure that it might not be.
“I know.” She sniffled. “We have time until you for sure need one.”
***
Four and a half years later
Unfortunately, that time came and went, and all of a sudden, four and a half years had passed.
I’d always kept my hope that one day a kidney would fall in line. That someone would die so that I could live.
Except, it never happened.
Even worse, my kidneys just got more and more inadequate until all of a sudden, they weren’t doing anything at all.