My Legacy

Jinxx's POV: Once at the hospital, we're escorted to a small private waiting area, by a receptionist. We thank her, then knock on the door gently, and walk in to find Andy and CC sitting together. Andy's making an attempt at cheering CC up, but clearly nothing's going to cheer him up right now. How could it?
After we're all seated, Ashley asked, "So, any word yet?"
"No. Nothing," Andy replies, shaking his head slightly.
"All I know is that son of a bitch had better not have done what the doctors think he did to my little sister. Otherwise, I'll kill him," CC says in a low, dangerous tone. I've never seen this side of him before. None of us have.
He's normally laid back and cool with just about anything, but then I think of myself in his position, and I'm pretty sure I'd feel the same way. I can't begin to imagine what he must be thinking and feeling right now.
"I'll be back. Any word on their condition, and someone had better tell me right away," CC states, then walks out of the private waiting area.
When the door clicks behind him, Ashley asked, "What do they think happened to Christina?"
"They're running some tests, because they think she might be paralyzed from the waist, down. He said she was complaining that she couldn't feel her legs at all in the ambulance," Andy explains, "My only question is though, how will we give her, her birthday present if she can't walk?"
"The wheelchair she's bound to have wouldn't really work on the bus," Jake says.
"Exactly...There's got to be another way," Andy says, leaning against the arm rest and tucking his fist under his chin, lost in thought. I then hear him murmur, "Has to be something small enough to maneuver the bus, but large enough she can fit on it and get herself around."
After a few moments of silence pass, Jake says, "Skateboard?"
"Wouldn't be big enough," Ashley counters, "But we're heading in the right direction."
"No. That's a pretty good idea," Andy counters, "But Ashley's right. It's no big enough on it's own."
"What are you thinking?" I ask Andy.
"Why not customize something for her?" he asked, grabbing his notebook and a pen and starts drawing out a concept.
It's a skateboard, attached to some kind of narrow box that has cushions on it for comfort. On the outside of the box are two wheels that look like smaller versions of the wheels you'd find on an actual wheel chair. Then he drawls on the other side, the same design, only it's been lifted.
"So, we build something like this for her, and I know someone who can build this part," Andy says, pointing at the elevated design, "He can put some sort of mechanism inside to help elevate her when she needs it, or just wants to be up higher, but what we'll do with the board is use it as a leg rest."
"But even that's quite bulky. She'd still have a hard time getting around. The board would always be in the way," I say.
"Not if we can do something where when she's in the bus, she'll elevate herself, and the board goes under the seat some, so just her feet are on it," Andy counters.
"What are you guys talking about?" CC asked, walking back in the room.
"Ways to make it so we can still give Christina her birthday present, regardless of her possible disability," Ashley answers, not looking up from the sheet of paper Andy had drawn the insane concept on.
"I see..."
Christina's POV: "When can I see my brother?" I demand, once the nurses get me in my room, after all the tests they preformed on me.
"I'll go get him now, sweetheart," the female nurse says and walks out of my room, as the male nurse hooks me up to a couple odd machines. Heart monitor. Blood pressure. Change out my IV.
When he's done, he leaves the room without a word. Rude, much?
I don't have long to dwell on it, as my brother bolts through my door and sits on the bed next to me, looking worried to death. He starts asking me a million questions, in typical Christian style.
"Christian, I'm fine. Just a little out of it, from when my head smashed the window," I tell him, trying to shut him up.
"Alright. How'd the testing go?" he asked, gently taking my hand in his.
"Alright, I guess," I say, shrugging my one shoulder.
"Have they said anything?" he continues.
I shake my head, but quickly stop as dizziness engulfs me, and say, "Nothing yet."
He nods, not looking at anything in particular, simply around the room, rather uncomfortably. Christian and I have never liked hospitals, but it looks like I'm stuck here for the time being.
Then I remember, I didn't come here alone, and I ask, "How's Emily? Any word about her condition?"
"Umm...Yeah," he murmurs, struggling to find the words, then tells me, "She's been put into a medically induced coma until the bleeding in her brain has stopped."
"What?!" I scream, looking up at my big brother in panic. My best friend's brain is bleeding. I could lose her because of some idiot not paying attention, and fleeing the scene. If I ever see that bastard, I'll ring his neck.
I used to say when I had bad days, that they were the worst days of my life, but those pale in comparison to what is going on now.
Then the doctor comes in with my chart, and says, "I'm sorry, Christina, but the tests show that you're now paralyzed from the waist, down."
Great. More bad news. Christian looks ready to hit something...Or someone, but I gently put my hand over his to calm him and ask the doctor, "What are my chances of walking again?"
"10/90. Ten being that you will, 90 begin you won't," he says with a certainty that leaves an unsettling knot in my stomach.
"Is there anything else?" I ask in a clipped tone.
"Not right now," he says.
"Good. Then get out," I tell him. Now I'm the one who's ready to hit something....Namely, my doctor. I will walk again. I won't give up until I do....

Notes