Winning Prompt

“Are you serious?” I sighed as she produced two tickets. Mom had mentioned wanting to take me when I got out of inpatient, but I didn’t think she had a plan. I didn’t want to go. Did I really need to see disabled people play sports? Yeah, it would be great to be reminded that I couldn’t do regular sports ever again; that I would always need accommodations. “Finch, it will be good for you to watch The Paralympic Games. I want you to know that you can stay strong and moving even in a wheelchair. Paraplegia can’t stop you from reaching your dreams.” Dreams. What was the point? One day you’re on the track team with a head full of fantasies, next you’re trapped by useless legs. But I knew mom wouldn’t give up. “Okay. I’ll go, but...” My mom grinned and kissed me on the forehead. “Everything’s ready, all we need is you!” Of course she was already packed up. The ride took six hours. We would stay at a B&B for the night and attend the next day. Before I knew it, we were sitting in the Paralympics stadium watching the cycling race. A flag was raised and all fell quiet. 3...2...1… It sliced through the air and noise exploded around me. The race had begun. Mom leaned over. “Do you see the woman in the lead with the orange shirt?” She gestured towards a speeding bike. “Yeah, what about her?” My mom’s entire face lit up. “That’s Bianca Horvitz!” She then rattled off some facts. I nodded and fixed my eyes on her as she sped by, everyone else trying to catch up. Mom was out of her seat with excitement. I wasn’t as enthusiastic and I couldn’t jump out of my seat even if I wanted to. Mom settled down as the lap finished and held my arm, squeezing whenever someone got close to Horvitz. The second lap passed. Horvitz was flanked by another racer, battling to get ahead. They turned… then time slowed. The racer beside Horvitz banked too tightly and careened towards her. I felt my mom tighten her grip. Horvitz pulled her weight to one side, avoiding the racer, but her wheels skid and she fell. I glanced around the field and saw support running over to Horvitz. But something happened: using her arms, Horvitz pushed herself up. It took seconds and she was speeding by as if nothing happened. The crowd cheered, but that felt distant. I watched as Horvitz pushed through the race without help from anyone, and just kept going. She had useless legs, but her arms were strong and she was confident. Using her hands, she grabbed life by the throat, playing the hand she’d been dealt. Her disability may have knocked her down, but she got back up. I felt like I knew that the wave she gave the crowd was aimed at me. Me. A girl who thought she was a burden for others, a failure to herself. Me, who’d given up before even trying to get up. Who projected my fear as anger and apathy. I turned my head towards my mom. Mom, who still loved me when I ignored and snapped at her. Was she right? Could the chair really not hold me back? Could I keep racing through life and not need to be pushed by others? I felt myself smiling. How long had it been since I’d done that? I thrust my arms around my mom. She turned, surprised. I don’t think I had given or returned hugs since the hospital. “Mom!” I shouted. “You’re right!” “About what?” “My legs can’t stop me. They just make me adapt. Become stronger. I can get back up.” Her eyes filled with tears. I was crying too. We sat like that, ignoring the race. The only thing that mattered was the door opening into my future and the embrace of my mother.

------- “You can do it Finch!” Mom’s voice rose above the others. I adjusted my hold on the handles, adrenaline pumping. A whistle filled my ears and I turned my hand pedals rapidly. The race was on.