My tibia was shattered. Doesn't sound like a problem. I could walk with crutches. But my arm was sprained too. So crutches wasn't an option. I can still smell the plaster. The time I was with the doctor was so quiet. All of us were quiet except the doctor. I wonder if he realized how awkward the time at house would be.
Oh how I wished my arm wasn't sprained. I silently hoped my arm would magically heal. I could not picture myself being receiving help from my folks with everything. I was a kid back then. Kids should have people to rely on. For me all I had was people I could never even see straight in the eyes.
After I was put back together and sent away, the following hours were comparatively better than the rest. Everyone almost broke out in flames and slandered me for being careless. But if it wouldn't be for mom telling everyone to be supportive, I'd probably end up with a heart attack.
At home all I wanted to do was get away to the waters. But I physically couldn't. I could feel the tensions growing around me. At any moment the shouting and scolding would ensue. I just stay put on my bed and didn't make a noise. When food came I ate and when I was told I was helped out with the toilet.
Every now and then I tried moving my arm. I did not want to be forsaken in the arms of the people who had so much hatred towards me. For now they were being nice but I knew as soon as I my leg would heal they'd go back to blaming me for everything.
I think it was during one of those nights were I started pairing my mental pain to my physical pain. The thought of how painful my life would be with my folks and the physical pain of my healing arm became one. The only way to make things a little better for myself was if I could use crutches and reduce the amount of effort they'd have to put helping me. So everyday I tested my arm.
Soon enough my arm was in peak shape. I happily announced to everyone that I'd take up crutches to walk since my arm was fine. They almost seemed happy that they'd have to spend less time with me. All was well. I almost couldn't finish my sentence before the crutches were put in my hands. And maybe that was the time when the wires in my head snapped.
There was a little voice in my head telling me all sorts of things. Things like how I deserved the extra care and attention. Things like it was their duty no matter how I landed in this position. Things like all the other kids had it way better than me. Things like they put tears in my eyes and robbed my smile from me.
So I decided to do something that seemed most rational. I deliberately broke my arm. I didn't think twice about it. Walked into my room and toppled the dresser on my arm. At that moment I felt no pain or regret. I felt happy and confident. I had finally done something without fear and completely in my control. And thus I was reborn. A stronger and fearless girl with the arm cast.
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