*Richelle POV*
I sat up in a hospital bed, propped up by pillows. I fidgeted with the IV in my left hand. Every time I flicked it, I could feel the little shot of pain as it shifted in my skin. It was pumping a significant amount of painkillers into my body.
My left leg, the one with the tumor, was propped up on a pillow without the Aircast. I could see the tumor bulging out of the area just above my ankle. It made me nauseous to look at.
My leg wasn't even strong enough to stand on. They had previously decided that the best course of action was to just keep my leg in an Aircast until amputation, because, chances were, if they tried to put me through physical therapy to get me walking without the Aircast, as aggressive as the tumor was, I would probably break my leg again before physical therapy had any positive outcomes.
Sadie and my mother sat on my left, Gabby and my father on my right. Everything was quiet. Solemn, I suppose. I didn't like it. I didn't care that I was about to have my leg chopped off, I don't like silence.
"Does camp sound like it'll be cool?" I asked, breaking the silence.
Sadie looked up at me, surprised.
I rolled my eyes. "What- you expected me to stay quiet?"
Sadie shrugged. "How do you feel?"
"Crappy," I said. "Now answer my question."
Sadie sighed a little. "It was good, I guess."
"You guess?" I arched an eyebrow.
"Ally was there," Sadie said.
"Oh," I fell silent. There was the problem. Sadie and Ally didn't get along at all. Sadie had already filled me in on everything. I opened my mouth to respond to Sadie when my surgeon walked in.
"Hey Richelle," Dr. Danforth said, smiling at me.
I tried to smile back. "Hello there."
"Are you ready?" Dr. Danforth asked, raising an eyebrow.
"What am I supposed to say to that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in reply.
"You don't have to tell me you are," Dr. Danforth assured me. "I'll take good care of you. I promise."
I nodded. "Okay then." I was rapidly drifting away, straining against the holds of anesthesia. "I'm ready. Let's do this."
Then I drifted off.
I woke up feeling drowsy and a little bit loopy, according to my sister. Sadie and my mother sat in recovery with me. Gabby was too young, and Dad had to take her outside.
A blanket covered most of my body. An IV ran through my hand administering, what I assumed and what I hoped was a hefty amount of pain medication. I felt a small tickle, a bit like a flutter in my nose. I reached up and felt the nasal cannula around my head administering a liter of oxygen to my lungs. Why I needed oxygen to my lungs after my leg got cut off is something I can't tell you.
"How are you?" Sadie asked.
"I just got my leg cut off," I said. "What is that question supposed to mean?"
Sadie shrugged.
"So how do you feel?" Mom asked me gently.
"Emotional," I croaked. "And tired. Very, very tired."
"I want to see her leg," Sadie said.
"Wow, Sadie," I said groggily. "I just had a life-altering surgery and your first request is to see my leg."
"What?" Sadie shrugs. "I want to see it."
"Are you ready, sweetie?" Mom asked me.
I shrugged. "I'm going to have to at some point. Better sooner than later."
Mom pulled the covers from my legs. What was left of my left leg resting on a pillow, with what looked like a ten-pound blue cast around my residual limb. That sounds weird. Residual limb. Or my stump. Stumpie.
I sucked in a breath as I stared at it. My leg was gone. This was my reality. My left leg only went down to about three inches below my knee.
I sighed. I felt drowsy and tired. And I was sure I could barf if I looked at my leg one more time.
"What do you think?" Mom asked.
I took a deep breath, carefully thinking out my response. "I think I want McDonald's."
*Sadie POV*
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Mom had sent Gabby and me home with Dad shortly after Richelle's surgery. It was freaky to think that my sister had only one leg. It freaks me out to think about.
I tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep for maybe two hours or so. Finally, I drifted off into a dream world.
It was one of my favorite memories with my family. It was Christmas, I remember, the Christmas before Eva was diagnosed with osteosarcoma. It seemed like nothing could be more perfect.
Seven-year-old me was in the kitchen with nine-year-old Eva and Richelle, decorating freshly baked sugar cookies that we had helped Mom bake. Eva laughed and dabbed Richelle's nose with frosting.
Richelle turned and gave Eva a hard stare. Eva just giggled again.
"That would be funnier if you weren't already covered in flour," Eva said.
I gave Richelle a once-over. Eva wasn't lying. Richelle was covered head to toe in flour from her flour cloud making the sugar cookies. Mom had her back turned, trying to help Eva and I make the frosting, and Richelle had dumped all four cups of flour in the mixing bowl, then turned it on. We turned around and Richelle, the floor, and the counter were all covered with flour. Still, I had to laugh at the red dot on her nose. It made her look like a flour-covered human version of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
"What are you looking at?" Richelle asked, narrowing her eyes and giving me a playful smile.
"Well you've got a little frosting right there," I pointed to her nose, giggling. "And a little flour right there," I made a circle with my hand around her flour-covered body.
"Oh yeah?" Richelle asked, a mischievous smile glinting on her face. "Soon I'm not going to be the only one!"
I took off running with Richelle close behind, laughing with delight. Finally, Richelle caught me, picked me up, and spun me around.
I wriggled and laughed as flour flew everywhere.
When we got back to the kitchen a five-year-old Gabby had walked through the flour on the floor from Richelle's flour cloud and was making little footprints in the living room. We didn't even notice. We were having too much fun.
"What do you think?" Eva held up a sugar cookie that looked more like Rudolph after he crashed Santa's sleigh than a reindeer.
"It'll go perfect with Santa!" Richelle held up her Santa sugar cookie. It had a big red nose that made Santa look like Rudolph and her, a bad artist.
"They can ride in this!" I held up Santa's sleigh. It was perfect except for the fact that half of it was broken off.
"You know half of it's broken off," Eva said and gave Richelle a twin look to finish her sentence.
"So why not finish the job?" Richelle and Eva reached for my half at the same time. Dad used to tease the twins about having twin telepathy for years. Truth is, they spent day and night with each other and had learned each other's every move.
"Eek!" I squealed and ducked underneath them.
"Get back here!" I heard my sister yell as I ran down the hall. They both had long legs. I was barely in the living room when they tackled me, each taking a huge bite out of my sugar cookie.
"Girls! Family picture!" Dad called down the hall. Then, in a split moment, the scene morphed. We were in front of the Christmas tree. Eva let me climb on her back while Richelle held Gabby on her hip.
We flashed bright smiles and Dad took the picture.
Dad held his camera to show us the photo. The five of us crowded around Dad and his camera. I stared at it, admiring it, as Richelle and Eva started to fade. This wasn't what I remembered.
"What's happening?" I looked up to see the twins fading along with their pictures.
"What? No!" I screamed until both of them had completely vanished. I dropped the picture and sank to my knees.
You are never alone, a voice whispered in my ears.
Seemingly instantly, I was in a room lined with mirrors filled with memories, good and bad. I touched one of Richelle, Eva, and I laughed and it rippled like water.
The world around me spun and suddenly I was in a long hallway with mirrors filled with events I didn't recognize. I gently touched one of two girls who looked like older versions of Richelle and I arguing. When I touched it, it rippled like the other and changed to the girls laughing with each other like they were having the best time of their life.
"What?" I whispered.
"The future," a girl who looked almost exactly like Richelle walked in, but it didn't have her voice. I knew, even without her telling me, who it was. "I'm Eva, by the way."
Somehow this didn't surprise me. "Why did it change when I touched it?" I asked.
"Because your future isn't set in stone."
I woke up with a start, sweating so hard I had nearly made a puddle of sweat in my bed. I glanced at my nightstand and sat straight up. 10:30! I had never slept that late in my life!
I got up, threw on a t-shirt and shorts, and slipped out of the room.
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Dad said, sliding eggs on a plate for Gabby. I turned my nose up. Eggs were gross.
"Bout time you got up," Gabby teased, taking her plate from Dad.
"Shut up," I said, swiping a hand over her blonde head. "Blondie."
"Excuse me?" Gabby demanded. "You were blonde at one time too, you know."
"Okay, that was five and a half years ago!" I said defensively.
"Who cares?" Gabby retorted. "It was still blonde. There are photos in the hallway. I have proof."
"I never said it didn't happen," I said, my lower lip folding out like a futon.
"That's enough, you two," Dad reprimanded playfully.
I slid into my seat and Dad placed my plate in front of me, no eggs included. I was hungry.
"Hurry, you two," Dad said. "We're going to the hospital after this."
I resisted the urge to groan. As much as I loved my sister, hospitals were boring, especially if Richelle was sleeping the entire time. Even with YouTube, it's boring, and that's saying a lot.
I glanced down and started shoveling food in my mouth. Maybe elaborate dreams make people hungry. Yes, that must be it. I stopped, mid-scoop, and looked at Gabby, who was giving me a weirdly awkward stare.
"What?" I asked, bits of pancake coming out of the sides of my mouth.
"That's disgusting, Sadie," Gabby said, turning her nose up at me.
"I'm hungry!" I protested.
"It's still disgusting," Gabby said matter-of-factly.
"Says the girl who picked her nose until she was eight," I retorted.
Gabby rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She pushed her chair back with a loud SCRAPE, got up, and walked out.
I glanced behind me as she stormed out, and rolled my eyes.
"Hurry up, Sadie," Dad said, sliding Gabby's plate into the sink.
I sighed, shoveled the food in my mouth, and went to get dressed.
Gabby opened her door as I walked past, took one look at me, and slammed the door in my face. I'm used to it. Who cares if Gabby's upset? She'll get over it.
Mom got up quickly the instant Dad opened the hospital room's door. "Hi," she said quietly, walking up to him.
"Hi hon," Dad said, giving Mom a peck on the cheek. I look at Gabby and make a face. Gabby snorts softly. That's the thing with my siblings. We get mad at each other easily, but we don't stay mad for long.
"How is she?" Dad asked, his face dead serious.
"She's hurting," Mom said. "They didn't get the nerve block in her leg properly, so she was in really bad pain all of last night."
"And now?" Dad's brow furrowed concernedly.
"She's sleeping now," Mom said. "They got the nerve block in. She's dosed up with morphine and gabapentin." Mom glanced at Gabby and me. "Do you want to see her?"
I shrugged. "Sure."
"You'll have to be quiet," Mom said. She held out her hand for Gabby and my sister took it eagerly.
Richelle had an IV in her left hand connecting her to a bag of liquid above her and her stump was wrapped in a blue plaster cast. Her dark hair had started growing back after nearly a month off chemo. It was only an inch or so long, but it was so frazzled, that you'd think Gabby had done it.
Gabby's terrible at hair. The last time she did mine, she accidentally tied it in a knot. At least, I think it was an accident.
To Richelle's left, on the table beside her, was a happy meal. I guess Mom took her up on her McDonald's cravings. There's very little my parents won't do to make Richelle happy, especially now that she's lost her leg.
I sat down next to her and pulled out my phone.
"Don't wake her up," Mom whispered, kissing the top of my head. "The doctor needs to talk to me outside. Dad and Gabby went to get food from the cafeteria."
"Don't wake her up," I said softly. "Got it."
Mom walked out of the room, and I pulled my phone back out.
"Hi, Sadie."
I looked up, seeing Richelle's green eyes fixed on me. "Did I wake you up?" I asked, shoving my phone under my thigh.
"No," Richelle said, her voice groggy. "No, you're fine."
"Do you need anything?" I asked, uncrossing my legs.
"Have you seen a vending machine?" Richelle smiled a little. Richelle reached up and traced the nasal cannula around her head. "Oh. That's right."
"What?"
"I forgot I had these things," Richelle said. "Had a mini panic attack. When are they going to cut me loose?"
"When they're sure you're ready," Mom said, walking in with Dr. Danforth.
"When is that?" Richelle asked.
"We'll have to see," Dr. Danforth said, bending down next to Richelle's leg. "How does it feel? Any pain?"
Richelle nodded sleepily. "There's pain. But not a whole lot of it."
Dr. Danforth nodded. "That's good." He slipped the blankets off her left leg, revealing her plastered stump.
Richelle inhaled sharply and averted her eyes. She let out a slow, shaky breath. The room was so quiet I could hear her swallow. She closed her eyes and let her head fall on the pillow behind her.
Mom was squeezing her hand like it was her lifeline as she stared at her stump. She glanced down at her phone. Mom's voice was thick when she spoke. "I'm going to go help Dad and Gabby with the food." She gave Richelle's hand another squeeze. "Okay?"
Richelle's eyes opened and she met Mom's eyes. "Yeah. Sure."
"All seems to be well," Dr. Danforth said. "Your leg looks healthy. All the blood circulation is there. I think you're good." He smiled at her.
She looked away. "Thanks," Richelle muttered.
Dr. Danforth covered her leg back up, gave her one last smile, and walked out.
"How is it?" I asked.
"I hate it," Richelle admitted. "I hate it so much. I want my leg back. I want to be able to walk. If there was any other way, I would've taken it. I hate this."
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
Richelle shrugged. "It's fine. It's not like I was given a choice. No one walked up to me and asked if I wanted to be an amputee. Cancer was just handed to me on a platter." Richelle looked up.
I could see through the blinds Mom was pacing back and forth outside her room.
Richelle sighed. "Mom can escape this. Everyone can escape this. Looking at my leg, realizing that it's my new reality. Everyone except me." Richelle's tone was hopeless at this point. I felt horrible.
I scooted forward and laid my head on my sister's shoulder. "I'm sorry," I whispered again.
"I love you," Richelle whispered back.
"We come bearing food!" Gabby burst in after a few moments, holding a styrofoam to-go box like it was a trophy.
Richelle's upper lip curled up. "Do you know how disgusting that junk is?"
Gabby shrugged and sat down on the other side of Richelle. "So how are you doing?"
Richelle shrugged. "I dunno. It hurts. I hate the fact that I'm never going to walk on two legs again."
"Sweet IV," Gabby said, touching the needle.
Richelle winced as it shifted in her hand. "Right."
"Ooh, pretty cast," Gabby said, peeking under the blankets.
Richelle reached over and covered her leg. "Leave it alone."
Gabby raised her hands in surrender. "Yes, your majesty."
"Oh my gosh, shut up," Richelle growled, her glare hard.
The next few days, until camp started, Mom and Dad traded off staying with Richelle and taking Gabby and me to different museums and things. It seemed like they were trying to divert us from the truth- that all of our lives pretty much revolved around Richelle.