Trapped

Trapped

The crystal blue pond rippled as a sparrow swooped down for a drink, its soft red wings illuminated in the remaining rays of sunlight. I watched it carefully from my window, wishing I could be that sparrow – free. Free to go anywhere and do anything. But being paralysed, I can never be free. I am trapped inside a motionless body.
While other girls my age are out partying with their friends and boyfriends, I am stuck inside a hospital, confined to a bed and wired with machines that are my only hope of staying alive. There is nothing that I can do until the day that I die.

The only way I pass the time is to recall that fateful day, the day where my life dramatically changed forever. The day my family and I went bungee jumping at Point Bridge in celebration of my 18th birthday. They told us it was safe. They told us nothing bad would happen. They couldn’t have been further from the truth.
When my turn came around I was confident. I was harnessed up and placed at the edge of the bridge. Listening to the instructions, I nodded and prepared to jump. At the signal, I closed my eyes and leapt into the air.
I hit the water and a wave of adrenalin rushed through me. It was so exciting. Laughing, I twisted my head around as I sprang back up, just in time to see my family smiling at me from above. And just in time to see the large metal slabs of the bridge looming closer – much too close.

I don’t remember what happened next. All I remember is waking up in hospital and being told that I was paralysed from head to toe. The only thing I could do was blink in response as hot tears stung my eyes and rushed down my cheeks. They knew – I knew – that I would be stuck like this forever. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

Whenever I think back to that day, I am filled with anger. I feel like somebody should be to blame for what has happened to me. But who? Whose fault is it really? Is it the instructors, for assuring me it was safe to jump and letting me do it? Or is it my parents’ fault, for taking me there in the first place? Or should the blame be on the doctors who couldn’t fix me?
Every time I try to find the cause, so many thoughts spin around in my head I just feel like I can’t cope. But I shouldn’t try. Because even if I can blame somebody for this tragic accident, I will not be cured. No matter how hard I try, there is nothing I can do.

I am forever trapped.