Jessica looked down at her lifeless legs. The legs that had once bolted her across finish lines at track meets. Just a month ago, she had gotten first place in her division in the 200 M sprint. She remembered the tingling she felt in her legs after-wards, the satisfied cheering & panting & pats on the back. Jessica’s face flushed with fire, she felt it running up her shoulder blades to her neck.

They had to move, they had to. Jessica welled up everything she had inside of her, and pushed. If only she could get one toe to move. She stared at her pinky toe like it owed her money, and pushed harder. She was in control, she had to be.

John looked up from his magazine, he watched as his sister scrunched her face into a ball. A tear rolled down her cheek. John threw his magazine to the side, and ran over to her, “What is wrong, Jessica?”

Jessica looked up at him, not bothering to hide all of the hurt and fear and pain she was feeling. John didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t imagine how it felt.