PARKER

It's the day before sophomore year probably would have started, for everyone except me at least. Unfortunately I’m stuck with a condition that renders me useless- I’m incapable of going anywhere or doing anything- ever. I’m not infectious, I’m just extremely unlucky. I was born with CHD or Congenital Heart Disease. Unfortunately, that proceeded to kick my ass and led to Congestive Heart Failure, which just adds to the suckage of teenage existence. Basically my heart sucks at being a heart. It continually fails to pump blood throughout my body. At any given moment of any given day, there’s a chance that my heart will give up on me. My parents are the cause of yet another factor contributing to my inability to live a normal life. They decided when I was younger that I shouldn’t go to school- or anywhere for that matter. That asinine decision resulted in my lacking of a social life, or any friends except for my dog, Mowgli, and Nina, the only person I consider to be my friend.

I met Nina on an online website for sick people with no lives. She doesn’t have CHF, but she is dying from chronic lymphoblastic leukemia- we both know we don’t have a chance. Each day she’s getting weaker and weaker. Compared to her, my life is as easy as the Kardashians. She is stuck going through chemo and all I do is sit around feeling sorry for myself.

There’s been talk of getting a heart transplant, but we’ve been on the waiting list for a few years now. We’ve had a harder time than most CHF patients because my blood type is rare. As time trudges on, it becomes more and more apparent that I don’t really have much time left- I need a new heart. For now, I’ll continue to live out my sorry excuse for a life. I have by distracting myself with taking online classes, dreaming that maybe the next day, or the day after that,  I can finally be a regular sixteen year old.

Needing a transplant summons a variety of different thoughts in my mind. Though I would be extremely grateful for obtaining a new heart, I can’t help but think that I don’t deserve it. For me to live, someone else would have to die, I don’t know how I’d live with that kind of weight on my shoulders.  

EMMA

It’s the morning of the first day of sophomore year and it’s already a shitshow. My makeup looks like my five year old brother applied it and I have absolutely nothing to wear. What a DISASTER. This year is already giving me bad vibes, why did summer have to end so soon? My boyfriend Noah won’t respond and I need a ride to school, and I am not taking the bus as a sophomore, so that bitch better pick up. The only thing I’m excited about is volleyball season. I live for competition. The thrill of winning- being the best, I just love that shit. There’s nothing better than putting people in their place. Just knowing that I’m good at something makes my heart race with anticipation. As I’m sitting in my room dreaming about volleyball, my mom’s attempting to get me ready for school, I swear to god she thinks I’m a toddler who still needs help to piss.

“Honey, you ready for your first day?” Mom calls from downstairs. “Don’t forget about volleyball tryouts, make sure to bring your gear!”

“Yes mom I’m all set!” I grab my gym bag as well as my backpack.“Thank you for your words of wisdom.”

“I don’t need your sass Emma. Come downstairs and get some breakfast. Then i’ll drive you to school.”

I just hope the day won’t be as bad I think it will.

EMMA

Ok so it’s like thirty minutes before tryouts and I’m totally freaking out. Thank the Lord that Noah came to watch for moral support because I need that.  Even though I played varsity last year, I still have a really bad feeling that I won’t get on the team even though I’ve worked my ass off. Other than this moment of panic, my day has been marginally ok. My classes were fine, as well as my teachers. Friends as irritating as last year but that was to be expected.

T minus five minutes until the moment that determines the outcome of my whole sophomore year. Thank god Noah made his way over when he saw me panicking.

“Hey you got this. You’re a badass and can completely crush this tryout. These girls have nothing on you, plus you’re cute when you’re stressed.” He winks.

“I honestly have no idea how I’m going to do.” I reply, twirling my index finger about my long blond ponytail. “I've trained so hard all off seasons, but I have a really bad feeling… like something is off… ”

Noah just throws his head back in the cute way he does and let out a deep laugh, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Maybe it’s the fact that you don’t have your old coach.” he responds reaching for my hand. “Afterall you did have her for like six years in a row. Maybe-” He’s cut off by the loud speakerphone in the gym.

“LADIES IT'S TIME FOR TRYOUTS. REPORT TO THE MIDDLE OF THE GYM IMMEDIATELY” The coach bellows.

“ Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.” quickly kissing his cheek as I sprint to the center of the gym.

“I believe in you.” He calls, but I’m already gone.

PARKER

I only woke up five minutes ago but I could feel that something is wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause of my unease.

“ Hon, time for breakfast.” Mom calls from downstairs.

“I don’t feel good.” I respond.

“You need to eat. I know you’ll feel better.” She replies.

I begin to rise, responding but getting cut off, my body failing as I crumple to the floor.

I wake up about thirty minutes later in a hospital bedroom, hooked up to various assortments of wires and IVs and a cannula in my nose. I look around and see my mom sobbing, quietly her chest heaving as she silently cried. I’ve never seen her like this. Nervousness and uncertainty cloud my mind .

“Mom,” I say tentatively, not sure if I want the question I have at the tip of my tongue answered. I decide I need to know and blurt out “What is it? Tell me what’s wrong!”

“It’s not good.” She sniffles. “You’re in stage four heart failure. You’re almost out of time sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

My piece of shit heart stops, realization sinking in like the fucking Titanic. My throat dries up, rendering me mute to add to the list of my disabilities. How could I not have realized. I was having all these symptoms and had no idea that they differed from the usual. Whenever I would walk to anywhere, I would become short of breath. I would have to stay in bed in order to not get dizzy, and it’s been progressively worsening but I was too busy wallowing in self pity to notice.

In the blink of an eye, my already pathetic excuse for a life went to absolute shit… great going Parker.

EMMA

It’s the fifth day of tryouts. We’re in the middle of a scrimmage, things are getting intense. Becca passes the ball to Kate, who sets it to me and I jump up and spike it to the other side. The girl on the other side passed the ball to the setter. I gazed over in Noah’s direction.

“You’re doing great!” He mouthed as a girl on the other team spiked the ball towards my side, as Kate tries to save it she falls atop of me. I fall to the floor, my skull shatters. Little did I know that the last thing I’ll ever see is Noah.

PARKER

Days seem to fly by like passing cars. Half the time I’m unconscious, or fading in and out watching some TV show I have no interest in. If someone asked me how many days I’ve been here, I wouldn’t be able to give the correct answer. I’m on a ventilator, which prohibits my ability to speak and breathe on my own, to the point where machines are the only thing keeping me alive. I’m a human vegetable, I’ll make sure to add it to the list of my personal achievements which will soon be lost to the world the moment I am.

Sometimes I can hear my mom singing to me, but mostly I can hear hushed murmurs and rushed conversations between my mom and doctors.

I wake up, and hear a blood curdling scream, almost shitting my pants. “We found a heart!” my nurse and my mother sing, dancing around the room tears running down their faces.

“They’re preparing it right now, we’ll have to rush her to the operating room immediately” she wheels a cot into the room and starts unhooking all the wires. “All we need you to do is sign some papers and then we can start the surgery.”

As my mom signs the transplant forms I can’t help but wonder what happened to the donor whose heart I’m receiving. “Parker don’t be scared honey,” she takes my hand in hers. “You’re strong, I’ll see you when you wake up.”

I slowly watch her face fade away, like a distant memory, as I’m wheeled into the operating room.

Anesthesia is slowly pumped into my body, I can hear the soft, inaudible conversations from the doctors and nurses around me. Images of my childhood dance across my field of vision, making me remember where it all went wrong.

I was seven years old, gallivanting across the yard I suddenly lost control of my breathing. My mom immediately rushed me to the hospital, thinking that my lungs were collapsing. At, first the doctor’s thought that I had asthma, and prescribed me with singulair and albuterol to open up my airways. The “asthma” proceeded to get worse and I would frequently faint, the doctor’s office became a second home. After X-rays, CAT scans, and ultrasounds of my chest they finally figured out what was wrong. They told my mom that I was born with a heart problem that they somehow never noticed, my left valve was collapsing and they could perform a surgery to fix it. They said it was the last one I’d ever need.

They couldn’t have been more wrong.

PARKER

As soon as I wake up I know it’s going to be a painful recovery. There’s a tube draining fluid from my chest, the ventilator is still there. For the first time in forever, I feel strong, it may just be all the painkillers though. I look around the room and there’s no one to be seen, which is weird considering the kind of person my mom is. She’s usually hovering over my body like a hawk stalking its prey. I eventually fall back into a deep sleep.

“Ok Parker we’re taking the ventilator out now,” Nurse Kaitlyn says as she walks into the room. “Just take a nice big deep breath out.”

One exhale later my chest feels like its about to explode, my throat as dry as my humor.

“In a couple days you’ll be out of here,” she wheels the machine out. “Don’t worry.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

Today is the first day of Junior year, and my first day ever of high school. My now useful heart beats steadily in my chest as I walk into a school for the first time. I take out my schedule, my eyes scanning the paper to figure out where my first class is.

Damn it I’m in the completely wrong place I mutter under my breath.

I start to walk across the lobby when out of the corner of my eye I can see someone walking towards me.

Wow he’s hot.

“You look lost,” he laughs. “Let me see your schedule, maybe I can help you.”

As I pass it to him I gaze into his eyes and my hearts starts to scream in the middle of my chest. I feel like I know him somehow. “Here,” my voice shakes.

“Walk right down the hall and it’s the third door to the left,” he hands the schedule back to me and somehow makes me feel like I need a whole new heart again.

“Thanks,” I start to make my way down the hall as he stops me once again.

“Oh and by the way, I’m Noah.”