Live again

I'll tell you a story. It won't be very cheerful, but listen to it until the end.

It's about a girl. Her name was Iwona. She was

spending her winter break with her aunt. She would have preferred to be somewhere in the mountains, of course, but because of the flu, she had to content herself with admiring the scenery of a suburban housing estate with its densely packed apartment buildings.

One evening, she went shopping at a nearby store. The snow sparkled with thousands of sparks, dispersing the winter darkness. It was difficult to distinguish the road from the sidewalk. They were covered with a thick layer of packed white snow. Besides, the internal roads there were more often used by children to play than by cars. That's precisely why she wasn't afraid to walk right in the middle of the street.

It was quiet and peaceful. The heavy frost discouraged everyone from leaving her cozy apartment.

Iwa walked slowly, lost in thought. She was planning her birthday party. In a week, she would turn seventeen.

The sound of an approaching car and loud music interrupted her reverie. She headed towards the sidewalk. Unfortunately, she didn't have time to leave the street.

Total darkness fell.

When she finally opened her eyes, she was lying on the road. She couldn't move.

"Can you hear me?" the stranger asked, leaning over her.

She only managed to blink in acknowledgement. Her whole body ached and she still didn't fully comprehend everything that had happened.

"I've already called the ambulance. They'll be here soon.

" It took Iwa a moment to realize that the person who had attended to her was the driver of the ill-fated car. It was dark, so she couldn't see his appearance. She could only see the outline of a figure and smell the smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

She closed her eyes. She was shivering with cold. The stranger wrapped his jacket around her. She tried to move, but then felt a pain in her neck. The world spun around, and white spots appeared before her eyes. She moaned softly.

"Calm down. The ambulance will be here soon."

Before she could even realize the perpetrator was attending to her, an ambulance arrived.

Paramedics gently lifted her onto a stretcher and braced her neck.

The diagnosis was lengthy and the prognosis was bleak. She suffered a concussion, dislocated cervical vertebrae, a severely fractured forearm, and a spinal cord injury.

She was taken to the operating room almost immediately. She also underwent a multitude of tests. Everyone smiled at her kindly and told her she would be fine. She couldn't even return their smiles.

At her mother's request, she was placed in a single room. Her arm was in a cast and a neck brace was worn. She couldn't move her legs...

She didn't remember exactly what had happened. She remembered going to the store, preparing the guest list for her birthday party. She couldn't answer all of her mother's hysterical questions. Besides, Eliza wasn't even paying attention to her. Her tragic monologue was directed at herself. She believed her world had collapsed. She didn't even hint that it was her daughter's world that had collapsed.

Iwa felt bad. She had a headache and felt nauseous. She didn't feel the slightest desire to listen to her mother. She needed support, which Eliza couldn't offer.

She also needed peace and explanations. No doctor would discuss her condition with her.

Apparently, her mother had been very persuasive about what not to say.

Like a drowning person, she clung to the thought that it was just swelling in her spine caused by the fall, and that once it subsided, everything would return to normal. But days passed, and her condition didn't improve. She was fully aware of this. The number of possible scenarios was shrinking dangerously.

Her mother never visited her again. She disliked hospitals. They disturbed her sense of aesthetics. Sick people, unpleasant, white wards. It didn't fit her world. Colorful, full of flowers, expensive furniture, and trinkets from the farthest corners of the world.

Her father came several times a day. He held Iwa's hand, wiped away her tears, and told her about the kitten that missed its owner so much. He joked that he would bring it to the hospital in a shoebox and Iwa would hide it under the bed.

* * *

During another evening round, when the doctor tried to answer the same question with words of encouragement, Iwa couldn't bear it anymore.

"Doctor, please tell me I have a broken spine and will never walk again. I want to hear it finally," she said in a firm and cool voice.

He was frightened. He hadn't expected something like this, though he knew it would be impossible to hide what had really happened from her forever. Her cold gaze left him no choice.

"Yes." Your spine is damaged, and so severely that no surgery will be effective. At least here in Poland.

"Please leave," she said, without even looking in his direction.

With that one, short sentence, he had taken away all her hope. Iwa couldn't understand why this had happened to her. What had she done to deserve this?

"I will never walk, never…" she whispered the words like an incantation, tears streaming down her cheeks.

It sounded like a death sentence to her. Irrevocable and final. Even though she had expected it, she now realized that she had truly believed everything would be alright.

Once she realized what awaited her, she couldn't even bring herself to smile. Every little thing brought tears or rage. She was constantly irritated and oversensitive. She tried to mentally reorganize her life, but to no avail.

A few days before leaving the hospital, a stranger appeared, the one who was to blame for all this.

"How dare you come here?!" she exclaimed upon seeing him.

She recognized him. Although she couldn't see him clearly at the time, she knew he was the man. He had black, close-cropped hair. In jeans, a shirt, and a cardigan, he looked like a normal guy.

"Get out! Did you want to make sure I was suffering enough!? You ruined my life! Get out..." she said the last sentence through tears.

A nurse appeared, alarmed by the screams.

"Please get out," she said behind her. "Iwa, calm down..." Her warm, calm voice, however, was of little help.

"No! Damn it, no!" If he can walk freely in the world after what he did to me, then I can do whatever I want.

Iwa finally found an outlet for all her despair, for her helplessness. If she could, she would probably tear this man to pieces. She couldn't understand what he was thinking when he came here.

The nurse felt helpless before the hysterical seventeen-year-old. Nothing helped. Only a syringe filled with clear liquid did. Iwa stopped screaming. She burst into loud sobs and collapsed onto the pillows. For a while, the hospital ward was filled with pitiful sobbing.

Finally, she fell asleep.

But the stranger wouldn't leave her alone. When she opened her eyes, she saw him sitting by the bed. She was calm now. Sleep did her good. She simply turned her head toward the wall. She didn't want to look at him. She then remembered that night a few weeks ago, when his shadowy figure had leaned over her.

"Please, go away," she whispered.

There was silence for a long moment. Finally, his quiet, uncertain voice broke the silence. He said he was a medical student, that his father had died from drinking too much, that his mother also drank, that he had two brothers, that he worked and sent all his money home so his brothers wouldn't end up in an orphanage. She couldn't listen to this. She didn't care about anyone else's tragedies. She had her own.

He also said his drunk friend had caused the accident and then fled. The police, however, refused to believe anyone else had been there.

"Why are you telling me this?" she said dryly.

"I wanted you to know how it happened. I stayed, I helped you, because I wasn't the one who caused the accident." His resigned voice hung in the heavy hospital air for a long time.

But she didn't care that it wasn't him. That fact wouldn't restore her health. Besides, she didn't fully believe in the boy's nobility either. She sensed there was something hidden behind his words.

This time, it was she who broke another long minute of silence.

"You came here to arouse my pity," she said in an unpleasant voice.

"If so, then what? I've been through a lot in my life, and what I'm doing now is no disgrace to me. I'm not ashamed to ask for mercy."

Iwona looked at him with regret. The boy's words made no impression on her. She knew he could just as easily tell the truth as lie. Why should she bother with that? What was more important to her was how she would return to the world around her. Would she be able to live a normal life? Would she still have so many friends?

She didn't know what the boy expected from his visit, but she was certain he wouldn't get it. They both had ruined lives now, and she didn't know if she had the strength to fix one.

Finally, Iwona was discharged. She thought it would be a happy day for her. She needed peace and warmth to pull herself together. Unfortunately, she was disappointed.

"I packed your things; we're flying to Switzerland this evening. They have the best neurologists there. They claim they can restore the use of your legs," her mother greeted her.

Iwa tried to protest. First with screams, then with tears. She knew it was pointless, but she tried to show that she, too, had a say in her own health. However, if her mother had already decided something, it meant it would happen.

* * *

Great hope, great disappointment, and even greater pain.

The surgery was unsuccessful.

Iwa broke down. She withdrew into herself. Just when she thought she would be able to look at normal, smiling people, everything collapsed. At night, she cried and called her father. Only a conversation with him would briefly brighten her world. But it wasn't enough to restore her will to live.

Six months later, the situation repeated itself.

"Everything's settled. This time it'll definitely work out. We're flying tomorrow," her mother announced dryly.

"I don't want to! I'm not going anywhere with you! I know I don't fit into your perfect and beautiful world right now. I'm a defective product, and you won't rest until you fix that flaw. I won't let that happen! You won't drag me around hospitals all over Europe to fit me back into your world!

" "We're leaving in the morning. Pack your bags," she said dryly and left.

Of the six months between the two surgeries, Iwa spent less than a month at home. The rest of the time was taken up by visits to various clinics and hospitals, and hundreds of unnecessary tests.

What hurt her most wasn't even that her mother treated her like an object, but that she couldn't resist. She couldn't slam the door, couldn't run away. She couldn't say she didn't want to go to another hospital, because the wheelchair was impervious to her will.

Iva realized that all these trips and treatments had cost a lot of money. She asked herself a thousand times why she could afford them. She, who already knew nothing could be done. Why didn't people who had a real chance of recovery have the funds?

All these trips were filled with arguments with her mother, over every insignificant detail. It was the only way she could relieve the suffering and pain.

Sometimes she wanted to say she didn't consent to the surgery. She was finally of age. All she had to do was sign a waiver, and this nightmare would be over. But she couldn't do it. She couldn't. Her mother always confronted her with a fait accompli. Everything had already been paid for, settled. By then, giving up was out of the question.

* * *

None of the four surgeries yielded any results. At least positive ones. All the procedures were a serious intervention in her body, which was not indifferent. She was unable to perform the simplest tasks. She was on painkillers almost constantly. She was mentally exhausted.

These consequences made no impression on her mother. She believed that once Iwa was healthy, these minor inconveniences would also disappear. That's what she called them, minor inconveniences. But Iwa would never be able to stand on her feet again.

Her mother understood this only when, after reviewing her medical history, doctors threw up their hands helplessly and advised against surgery.

Iwa thanked them through tears. It was the least she could do.

It took almost three years for her to return home peacefully. But it was too late for a return to normal life.

Without friends or acquaintances, she slowly lost touch with the world around her. When her mother realized she couldn't fit her into her world, she simply cut her out. Iwa was left alone. Even her kitten had disappeared during this time.

Her health was poor. Her mental state was even worse. Her body could easily be restored. All it would take would be good nutrition, fresh air, and stopping her medication. However, Iwa had no motivation to make any decisions. She barely left her room, ate little, and switched from pills to injections.

Only her father tried to help her. He couldn't accept what his wife had done. He often learned of his daughter's whereabouts by phone. He had no control over anything. He couldn't watch his only daughter transform from a lively seventeen-year-old into a bedridden wreck.

He was the only one who worried about her. He brought her sweets, fruit, cooked her favorite dishes. He tried to motivate her to be active, but can anyone motivate her to live?

For a time, he even tried to convince his daughter that her mother meant well, that she was doing it for her own good, that she was lost, that she needed time. However, he eventually stopped believing it himself.

Iwa suffered from the pain that remained with her as a souvenir from all the surgeries, which could only be soothed by strong medications and her mother's cold indifference. She rejected everything and everyone. She was unable to feel anything but pain. She didn't know what a smile was. She couldn't see people.

She was getting weaker and weaker, with dark circles under her eyes, pale skin, and blue forearms. When she saw her mother, she screamed at her, not letting her get a word in. She ignored the doctors who came to see her and silenced her. She hid her suffering under a cloak of indifference.

One day, she was admitted to the hospital. Her body was at the limit of its endurance. Then she realized that nothing would help her, that her mother would never return to her world. She often wondered how anyone could not love their own daughter. After all, she had done nothing to her. Iwa had always been the prettiest, the smartest, had the most beautiful voice, recited poetry the most beautifully... She couldn't understand why everything had ended so suddenly.

She tried to force her mother to accept her, to make her understand that she would no longer be the most beautiful daughter to brag about to family and friends.

Doctors tried to explain to her that her life wasn't over, that many people lived like her and were happy. But they couldn't even imagine what she had been through, visiting clinic after clinic.

Sometimes she thought it would have been better if the accident had caused her death. Then she wouldn't have had to go through all this.

Her father picked her up from the hospital. Two weeks later, she didn't look any better.

Even though she was already hurting him, he tried his best to please her. One day, he brought her a small, dirty, starving kitten.

"He wandered into the company. I think he needs someone to take care of him.

" "Who will take care of me?" she whispered, barely audible.

At first, the kitten was a huge nuisance. Iwa couldn't even feed him. Her room was upstairs. Her father repeatedly tried to move him downstairs so she could go out into the garden, so she could be more independent, but she refused. She lived in her own prison because he didn't want to see people and their pitying looks.

Black, as she named the kitten, was still tiny, and Iwa couldn't even lift him off the ground. Besides, he was wild and preferred to hide behind the wardrobe rather than sit on her lap. This restless pile of black fur irritated her greatly.

Eventually, however, she and her father, working together, tamed him a bit. Iwa finally had a friend. She thought such an unlucky cat might bring her luck. Black ran around the room, getting into every hole, teasing her, sleeping in bed with her.

For the first time in four years, she smiled. When she saw Black sitting on the windowsill among the flowerpots, or chasing a nut around the room, her face would momentarily brighten.

There were good days and bad days. Life went on. Iwa knew she'd given up without a fight. She hadn't faced her problem. She'd let someone else decide her fate for her. Besides, she had no one to live for. The Dark One could warm her with his warmth, but he couldn't hug her. Sometimes she thought that if he could, he surely would.

The word "normal" was just an empty concept to her. Just like happiness

, for that matter. One day, once again, the decision was made for her.

"Will you pack your own things, or should I?" her mother asked coldly.

"Leave me alone and leave," she replied calmly.

"You're going to a sanatorium. I won't let you waste your life.

" "I'm so sorry, but you're the one who ruined my life," she said without even looking in her direction.

Iwa was certain that this time her father had planned everything. Her mother simply had to make a good impression.

She went. No one there pitied her, as she had expected. She had to adhere to the rules: meals at set times, rehabilitation exercises, free time. It was difficult, but she finally managed to stop taking painkillers. From then on, she only took them occasionally.

She was under the constant care of a psychologist. At first, she didn't want to cooperate, but eventually she broke through.

She also learned independence. She was twenty-two, after all.

For a long time, she did everything mechanically. Those were the instructions, so she followed them to have peace of mind. She felt no motivation. Life was indifferent to her.

Eventually, however, even that changed.

There was a boy she envied because he walked on crutches. He wasn't very steady yet, but he was still standing on his own two feet. He had been seriously shot. The bullets had damaged his spine, but after surgery and rehabilitation, he would walk normally. She learned this from her physiotherapist. She couldn't look at him without emotion. Konrad couldn't remain indifferent to those glances. They grew closer. He

was the one who taught her to live again.

Yes. He taught me to live again…