Writing Prompt!

From Cheyenne: Your character was in a terrible accident that left them completely paralyzed and unable to speak. Write a monologue detailing how they feel.

Write for 10 minutes. Post your piece to comments.

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Posted on May 12, 2016, in Writing Prompt. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. I’ll give it a go! 😉
    ______________________

    It’s funny how one incident, one trip up, one little accident can leave one so scarred on both the inside and out. It’s so coincidental, so unfortunate, so pitiful to be the one person to experience a particular tragedy.
    Yet we all do. We all experience some kind of “accident,” something gone wrong, something leaving us scarred for life whether it’s on the inside or out.
    Sometimes, it isn’t even an accident.
    I want to move. I want to run. I want to feel the pavement against the soles of my shoes, to feel the wind through my hair and to embrace the exhilaration that floods through my veins from doing what I love most.
    Running.
    But will I ever do it again?
    I want someone to wrap their arms around me, to hold me tight, make the pain go away, erase the scars, and whisper in my ear that it’s going to be all right. And while I do get lots of hugs and care and sympathetic faces, the scars will never go away. It’s never going to be all right.
    I will never run again.
    I have the willpower, the motive. Maybe I almost have the strength. I feel like I can channel the energy that I need, to mentally command my arms and legs to move when I want them to. It used to be so easy, I never even thought about it. I just did it. But now?
    What about now?
    Now I am frail. I cannot move on my own.
    Paralyzed, my mind whispers. Broken.
    And I can’t talk about it. I can’t cry out. I can’t tell people how much it hurts. I can’t tell them how much I ache. Because I just can’t. It is beyond my ability.
    The car accident happened a week ago. A week ago, my life changed.
    A week ago, my life was almost snatched away.
    I remember flailing, screaming as the car spun. It was in the middle of the intersection. Someone pulled out without looking. I happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
    Spinning, spinning, spinning, slam. My mind replays it. I think I almost lost my sanity in those horrifying moments. The fear was so petrifying, so nerve-racking. I thought the spinning would last forever. Then, bam. I collided full-speed with a car in front of me. The dashboard slid forward and something jammed into my throat, cutting off my scream arubtly. The world blacked out.
    I haven’t uttered a sound since.
    I woke up in the hospital. Tried to speak. Tried to call out. But instead, there was pain, and I found myself unable to do anything.
    My legs? Crushed. Paralyzed. My arms? Crushed. Paralyzed. My brain? Scared. Broken.
    My whole life just shattered to a million pieces before my eyes. And what am I supposed to feel?
    My mom’s voice resounds through my head.
    “Thankful to be alive.”
    She told me how much my life is worth. How much I am worth. If I have survived this, there must be a reason I did, right? God has a plan. I am a part of that plan.
    I lived through this accident. Maybe I’m paralyzed. Maybe I’m mute. Maybe I’m broken.
    But I’m not worthless. Not even close. No matter what it may seem, I am not worthless.
    I can think. My brain is still working. I can figure something out.
    I WILL figure something out.
    There’s a lot of different types of battle scars. I have my own. But these battle scars will not destroy me. They do not define me. I am defined by Someone so much greater than I. He will help me win this battle. In Him, I am victorious, no matter what I have gone through. No matter the scars and no matter the brokenness, He makes me whole.
    I will never run again. I will never speak again.
    But who says my voice cannot be heard, even in a different way?
    Despite the battle scars, I am here. I am alive. I am here to give people hope because if I survived, so can they.

  2. I wrote for 10 minutes and 12 seconds:

    Dear Journal,
    I sit and I think most of the time. It is hard to express how I feel. It was even very difficult for me to pick up this piece of paper and write. Oftentimes, all I can feel in my heart and soul is anger and sadness. I feel like I want to kill the person who crashed into our car, even though I know for a fact that would be irrational. But I can’t think rational most of the time. I am really just depressed. When I wheel around in the store or the park, people look at me and always give me the pitiful face. I have been going through physical and mental therapy for at least a year now. Most of the time I will use body language or write/draw how I feel and what I want to say. It’s getting better now, but my therapist tells me I will be starting medication to help with my depression. But I once went on the Internet and came across a Word of the day from my favorite celebrity who had lost her arm. She said a powerful tool is forgiveness. By carrying that burden of hate and anger toward the person whom you felt did you wrong will only make things worse for you. So, now – yes, I have forgiven the person who crashed into my mother’s car that day. And, honestly, it has helped me so much. But from this day on, I will have to live with the fact that I will never be able to walk again or speak. Although, I saw on the news just the other day of how a 13 year old girl got killed in a car accident. And I thought – I have it well. People die every day from car accidents and here I am complaining because I can’t speak or walk. Yes, other people may be able to run or speak but my therapist tells me I work harder than most people because of what happened to me. So, I will live my life and be grateful for I am still alive to this day. Because at least I can move my arms and make motions. And at least I can see and hear. I have a long way to go – I’m going to live my life, go to college, and work even if I am disabled.

  3. Hailey Church

    All I could think about at first was the pain. It was all there was. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to fall asleep, but somehow my eyes finally gave out and even in my dreams, the pain continued. It sometimes felt as though I was awake, at first, I really thought I was. Everything was dark and I could feel the pain, I could hear my family and strangers talking to me, to each other. I’m still unsure how long it was until I realized, how long it’s been until now. My body is so heavy, I can’t move it, sometimes I panic, I try to wake my body up, but I’m unable.
    There’s this fear and my chest gets so heavy, it’s so hard to breathe when it does that.
    I want to see my family, I don’t understand what’s going on or where I am. It’s getting harder to tell when I’m awake or asleep, the pain is a constant hum. All I can think about is my fear and my pain, I’m trapped inside of my mind and I don’t understand what’s going on.

  4. What is this place?
    I cannot quite remember. I only know I cannot leave. No matter how hard I try, my view remains the same. A blank white slate. I at first, thought it was a ceiling, yet now it has blurred and fled out of focus. I believe it to be the absence of anything to look at. I want to change that, to stand and move, to change my view. Yet the only response is a stab of pain, but I cannot decipher its origin. I want to shriek and communicate my agony, yet not a sound escapes my pale lips. That thought terrifies me further and the wild thought races through my mind, what happened to me?
    The memory does not come easy, I am forced to search my disheveled mind and ransack my muddled thoughts. Images flash before my eyes, of a time when my life did just that. I was…driving, heading who knows where. There was a green light, then two blinding white ones. I remember a horrible, ear-splitting noise, desperately wishing that it would end, and a moment later, realized the sound came from my own throat. There was a snap that cut my cry short, and set my body alight with a new definition for pain. Simply thinking of the moment replays the suffering. My mind cannot handle the duress, and the reality that returns with the memory. I cannot move, I cannot speak. I simply exist. My body does not work, yet my brain does, to allow my consciousness to survive in torture. What can I do as this human vegetable? Linger over pain? There were so many things…
    The enormity of my paralysis sinks in. I am trapped, within my own body, within my own mind. Never to do anything more than exist.
    Darkness sweeps over me like a cold breeze, promising to lead me to sleep. Yet with my conscious thoughts, I realize this is not the first time I have had these realizations. And it would not be the last.

    …What is this place?

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