A whistle blows and I go flying. 1, 2, 3 flips and I plunge into the water, fighting through refreshing wetness to reach the end of my journey. I see the flash of a camera. My mom came. I finish in first, a smile gleaming across my face. “Natalia Pavlenko” the man announces as a gold medal is strewn across my neck. Hopefully, the ones at the Olympics are so much better.

That’s my goal. To compete at the Olympics. I’m already ranked number 5 in my age category, 15, on the Western half of the U. S. “Goldie” is my nickname to all of my friends. Not only because of my Olympic- gold dream, but because of my long blonde hair. It’s sunkissed from the California sun, making it even lighter.

I climb into my mom’s white jeep, the sun reflecting off of it burning my eyes. As I buckle up the black strap, my mom gets a text. It’s from Jenna, my older sister. There’s a two year gap between us. She’s going through another “crisis”, or a break- up. This one is with Ronny, the linebacker for our high school football team, the Tiger Sharks. “ Let’s get home to Jenna,” my mom states, turning on the ignition.

“ I know the routine,” an uncontrollable giggle escapes my throat. I then go into what my family call my “car daze”. It’s where I stare out the window and ponder the depths of my fish brain. My daze is interrupted, though, by another one of my mom’s text alerts. It’s Jenna. I roll my eyes.

“Be patient,” my mom pleads as she picks up and unlocks her phone. Drama Queen I think to myself. Jenna would make a superb actress. Plus, that way she could provide me with money if my swimming career takes a dive for the worst. Ha, as if my swimming career won’t work out. I return to watching my mom’s fingers type away at the keyboard of her Blackberry, comforting my sister through text. All of a sudden I hear a blaring horn come rushing towards me. Then, there’s only darkness.

I wake up what seems like moments later in a hospital bed. The gown draped around my body is thin and cold. I look around the monotonous room, spotting my dad and Jenna, both dressed in sweats, and a doctor standing beside my bed. “W- w- what happened? Why am I in a hospital?” I manage to speak, my head exploding in sharp pains.

“Natalia, you’ve been in a coma for about 17 hours. You and your mother were in a car accident. She ran a red light and you were hit by an 18- wheeler on the passenger side.” the doctor explains.

“Where’s my mom?!” I yell, trying to push myself up, the headache growing stronger. All three of them look to the other side of the room. A white curtain is pulled to the wall and a room, identical to mine, surrounds my sleeping my sleeping mother. Her left arm is cradled in a cast. As I look back at my own bed, I see my left leg in a pink cast, elevated in some weird contraption that I’ve never seen before. “ And my leg? What about that? What about my headache?” I hear a hint of annoyance creep into my concerned and scared tone.

“ You broke your leg and in the crash. You also have a concussion so you will be bed- ridden for at least a week. If you want to go anywhere else in the hospital, we will have to have someone escort you in a wheelchair.” The doctor deals the news. I feel helpless... like a bird with no wings. I was soaring through the air and water. Minutes later, though, I’m here. A broken leg and concussion. Stuck in a hospital bed. I am helpless.

“ Jenna and I are going to get brunch. You should rest, Natty,” my dad says, standing up. “Natty” is what my dad called me when I was little. In the past few years he only calls me that when he’s worried about me. He worried about me. With that thought running through my aching head, I close my heavy eyelids shut.

“What about swimming?” I murmur as my eyes flutter open. My mom, dad, and sister all stand up and walk towards me. My mom seems fine, besides the cast still stiffening her arm.

“What sweetie?” she asks.

“What about swimming? I have a meet next week,” my voice grows louder. A nurse walks in with tray. Water, bread, cheese, soup, and something that looks like a ham sandwich are all neatly arranged on it. She grabs a bed table from under my bed, places it over my lap, and puts the tray on it.

“Eat up!” she smiles amiably, grabbing the remote to put my bed into a sitting position. My parents look awkwardly at eachother and then my mom speaks.

“Can you please get Dr. Maartin?”

“Of course,” the nurse nods politely, then exits the hall. Minutes later my doctor walks in.

“What am I going to do about swimming? When will I be able to compete again?” I ask for the third time, swallowing a gulp of soup.


“Well, Natalia, your concussion will have some lasting damage. Your leg will mostly likely, too,” he starts talking. Stop stalling. I yell in my head. “So I’m gonna give it to you straight,” he continues, “You will no longer be able to compete in swimming competitions,” his face is blank, but I feel myself go bugeyed and my jaw drop. Then I clench my teeth and gulp. I stare at the tray on my lap. I just stare. “I’ll let you digest this. I know it’s a tough thing to take in,” he says, turning on his heels to leave. This doctor, apparently Dr. Maartin, should really be Dr. No- Good- News. I have not heard a single good thing out of his mouth. Except no gym class.

Three weeks later, the crowd disperses to their cars from our outdoor swimming pool. I stand up onto my crutches and walk towards Hailee, my best friend. “Nice job! You really rocked the butterfly stroke!” I exclaim.

She rips off her swimming cap, “Thanks. We would’ve done better with you.”

“Yeah, well that’s not happening any time soon,” I still haven’t broken the news to the team yet. Hailee’s face scrunches up in confusion, “I can’t compete anymore. Something about my concussion and slight lasting damage.”

“What?! No?! This is not fair!” Hailee rants, continuing on and on about how it’s not fair and I should be able to compete, even if it’s months. She finally catches her breath, “ So do you want to tell the team, or should I?”

“I think I would be more comfortable if you did. Tell them that I’ll stay out here for another 10 minutes if they want to talk,” I sigh.

Hailee shoots me a sympathetic smile, “Everything happens for a reason.” She sounds like a therapist. I’m not so sure I want to say. Hailee walks into the school to get changed and I grab my aviators from my shirt. I was a bird with no wings, but now I see I’m a Phoenix, rising from my ashes. So, I put on my sunglasses, looked across the pool, and my life was never the same again.