Categories > Original > Drama
Transition
0 reviewsBeing at the wrong place at the wrong time leaves a young girl forever changed.
0Unrated
Desperately seeking reviews and crits of the work I did for a creative writing course in order to decide whether a degree in literature is a viable option for me PLEASE help. Thank you!
Transition
Rosie Carter is dead. As painful as that truth may be, it is the truth nonetheless. Rosie had died somewhere between stopping her car to change CDs and waking up in a hospital several days later. Rosie Carter is dead. She had fought bravely, but in the end violent crime had claimed its prize.
She should have been shocked or at least surprised when it happened. Most people would be. But she wasn't. She was terrified yes, but in all honesty she had been waiting for this to happen to someone in her family at some point. Given the crime rate in South Africa it seemed inevitable, so instead of shock, her first conscious feeling was one of relief. Relief that she was to be the one, and not her mother or sisters. Despite her fatalistic belief in the inevitability of this happening, she had not placidly accepted that it would. Instead she had taken all the necessary precautions in the hope of staving off the event. No woman living in the country with the highest rape statistic in the world could afford to do otherwise, really. She always checked under her car and in the back seat when she returned to it. She always kept to the more public and well-lit parking lots. She didn't stop at stop streets or red robots late at night when no other cars were in sight. She had even gone for a women's self-defence training course and carried mace in her purse. She had thought that she had covered all the bases, but in the end it was the time of day that fooled her. And the cheerfulness of the mid-afternoon sunshine.
Rosie was taking the long way home. She knew her mother would scold her for it later, but it was just such a lovely day and she was in the mood for a drive. Living on a smallholding meant that there are several different routes to choose from to get home. Right now Rosie was speeding along her favourite route, one that she did not use often since it ran across a fairly isolated part of her family's land. The CD she had been listening to came to an end and she decided to stop and exchange it with the new one in her purse. In deference to the warm weather she had wound down her window to let the breeze into the car. That one act of complacency was a chink in her armour that she didn't recognise until too late. They came out of nowhere. When she looked up again they had surrounded the car. And there was a gun resting against the side of her head.
"Turn the engine off and get out of the car!" came the snarled command from the gun's owner. Rosie hesitated. For a brief moment she contemplated simply ramming the car into gear and racing away, regardless of the man in front of the car. The pressure of the gun barrel being pressed more firmly against her temple convinced her that those actions would take too long and a sideways glace at the speaker's cold eyes told her that she would pay dearly for disobeying. Slowly she reached for the keys and shut the engine off. The man reached through the window with his free hand and unlocked her door. He stepped back, but kept the gun firmly pointed at her head. "Now get out of the car." Rosie reached for her seatbelt release. As she did so her eyes fell on her purse lying on the floor on the passenger side. If she could reach it she could palm the mace inside...
Suddenly her door was jerked open and she was unceremoniously dragged from the car. "She taking too long, so I help a bit," the man now holding her explained to the gunman. The others hooted and cheered in agreement. Angrily Rosie yanked her arm out of his hold and loosed a vicious kick to his groin that forced him to his knees in agony. Stepping forward she rammed her knee into his face, breaking his nose and knocking him to the ground. "Look like we got us a feisty one!" one of the other men exclaimed, coming up behind her. Immediately Rosie turned to face him and unleashed a palm-strike to his jaw, sending him stumbling back. The jeering comments from the others were quickly replaced by menacing growls as they closed in to subdue her before she could inflict anymore damage. As two of them grabbed her arms to keep her still the gunman and clear leader stepped in front of her. Bringing his weapon to rest between her eyes he gave her a sinister smile that revealed a mouth full of surprisingly white teeth. "You should not have done that, "he said. "We were going to let you go and just take your car. By striking my brothers you crossed a line. Now you will be punished in accordance with the laws of our culture." He took a step back, and in a single movement turned the gun around and struck her across the face with it. Rosie's head snapped back with the force of the blow and she tasted blood from biting her tongue. Remembering a tactic from defence class Rosie let her body go limp. The sudden shift in her weight forced her captors to adjust their holds, allowing her to break free. Calling again on her training she swung her fist at the man on her left, hitting him just below the armpit and causing him to back away in pain. Sensing movement behind her, Rosie swung around and barely managed to bring her right arm up in time to block the crowbar from connecting with her head. The force of the blow drove her to her knees and the pain in her forearm wrenched a scream from her lips. A pair of shoes stopped in front of her. Glancing up she looked into the face of her first assailant. Roughly he grabbed hold of her left arm and hauled her to her feet, only to strike her across the face with a backhanded blow. As her head snapped to the side she saw that the rest of the men were now gathered around her car. Hopefully that meant it was almost over. If the gunman was telling the truth and all they wanted was the car...Her captor's next words brought her attention fully back to him. "Hey, Boss. Why we not take her with us? She needs to learn respect." The other man must have replied in the affirmative, because her captor began dragging her back towards the car.
Rosie's blood ran cold. Suddenly she could hear her mother's voice in her head, "Don't /go /anywhere with them. Fight them! Make them kill you here and now, but DO NOT get in the car with them." With renewed determination Rosie kicked backward and managed to hit the knee of the man pushing her towards the car. Her fondness for wearing hiking boots paid off as he cursed and loosened his hold on her arms. She reacted immediately, first ripping her left arm free then ramming her elbow backwards, as she had been taught in self-defence. She heard him grunt in pain as she connected with his solar plexus. Unfortunately the others had heard the struggle and were quickly making their way back from the car. Rosie spun on her heel and, nimbly dodging the attempted ankle-grab by the still heaving man on the ground, took off into the veldt at full speed. She could hear them yelling behind her and then the sounds of them crashing through the underbrush in pursuit. Adrenalin and pure fear combined to gift her with a swiftness and fleet-footedness she had never before exhibited. She didn't feel the bushes and branches slashing her legs and scraping her arms. The pain from her broken right arm faded into the background as everything Rosie had in her became focused on getting away from her would-be abductors. A gunshot split the air and Rosie stumbled before catching herself and picking up speed again. "A running target is almost impossible to hit, and the further away the target is the less likely even a lucky shot is to hit it". The lesson from the self-defence course raced through her thoughts. Jumping over a fallen tree Rosie skidded to a halt as she found herself facing a barbed wire fence. Hearing the sounds of pursuit she quickly scaled the low fence, forcing herself to use her now numb right arm and ignoring the new scratches the barbs bestowed. Landing on the other side, she took off again. Another shot sounded and Rosie was jerked forward as something slammed into her side. She barely managed to get her left arm in front of her in time to keep from landing face-first on the ground. A burning pain was now radiating from her right side, joined by the re-awakened agony of her broken right arm. For a moment Rosie couldn't breathe. Black spots started dancing in front of her eyes as she fought to bring the pain under control. A distant shout brought the world back into focus as she lunged to her feet and resumed running.
She could feel her blood pounding through her veins and her breathing was reduced to desperate gasping, her side was on fire, her scratches were burning and her legs felt like jelly, but still she ran. If they wanted her badly enough to chase her so far, across such rough terrain, then she was doubly determined not to be caught. She would not become another unsolved missing persons report or a part of the ever growing rape statistic! She would not do that to her family! Stumbling again Rosie looked up to see that the terrain was changing and that she was headed for a heavily wooded sector of the holding. Glancing behind her she couldn't see her pursuers. If she could reach the trees before they saw her she may be able to lose them! The idea gave her hope and with another burst of speed she crossed the tree-line. Immediately the bright afternoon sunshine subsided into the near-twilight that marked daytime in the woods. Though grateful for the cover the trees provided Rosie now found herself struggling to maintain her speed while dodging obstacles, rendered near invisible in the poor light. Stumbling over an unseen root Rosie crashed to her knees, barely able to bite back a scream of pain. Panting, she stayed put, too exhausted and hurt to move. With great effort she calmed her breathing enough to be able to listen for sounds of pursuit. Hearing nothing she let out a weary sigh. Gingerly she placed her left hand on her burning right side. Lifting the hand in front of her face, she was not surprise to see that it was now covered in blood. /Guess I wasn't moving fast enough to avoid that 'one-in-a-million' lucky shot/, she thought grimly. The only consolation was that the bullet had not actually entered her side. In actual fact it had scraped her waist, carving out a decent amount of flesh and causing some serious bleeding. Though painful, the furrow in her side meant that at least there was no danger of internal bleeding or injuries any of her internal organs. Bracing herself Rosie turned her attention to her right arm. This injury was far worse. Her forearm was discoloured and swollen and she had no feeling in her fingers. A shard of bone was sticking through the skin and catching sight of it, Rosie had to fight to keep from throwing up. A compound fracture. The most dangerous type of break possible, with a very high risk of infection. Rosie could feel hysterical laughter bubbling up in her throat. She was in the middle of the woods with a compound fracture to her right arm, a bullet crease on her right side, numerous cuts and bruises, no cell phone, and no idea in which direction she needed to go to reach home. Added to that was the possibility that those responsible for her injuries were still after her. At that thought Rosie forced herself to get back on her feet - she had fought too hard to escape to be caught now just because she was sitting around feeling sorry for herself. Picking a direction at random she set off, but at a slower pace than before. No need to aggravate her injuries by running when pursuit is no longer a clear problem.
For how long she stumbled on she didn't know. Full darkness had long since replaced the daytime twilight but Rosie refused to stop. Her attackers could be hiding anywhere in the darkness. Every strange sound seemed magnified and the world was cold and lonely. Her arm and side had long since stopped hurting and was now comfortably numb. In fact, her whole body felt mostly numb. She had the vague impression that she had climbed over another fence at some point, but she wasn't sure anymore. Everything around her was starting to blur together. She stumbled up a grassy incline and stopped in shock. In front of her was an asphalt road she recognised. The highway. She had somehow cut across a quarter of her family's land and reached the highway. There are always cars on the highway. I can just rest here until the next one comes along and then flag it down and ask for a lift or a phone. Decision made, she gratefully sank to the ground, not even realising when she closed her eyes.
She was drifting in a sea of soothing grey. Dimly she could hear someone calling her name, but she chose to ignore it. So comfortable... The voice was getting more and more insistent and the soft grey world was starting to fade away. And as it faded the she became aware of the pain. She could feel a hand on her face and opened her eyes. Or tried to - it took a lot more effort that she expected. "Miss Carter? Rosie can you hear me?" the voice sounded again, much clearer now. She finally managed to force her eyes open only to slam them shut immediately as the dizzying swirl of colours and lights assaulted her optic nerves. "I think she's coming around" the voice stated nearby. "Miss Carter? Can you hear me? My name is Joe Tarkin. I'm an EMT with the St John's Ambulance Service. You've been badly hurt and we're going to help you, okay? Squeeze my hand once if you understand me" Rosie felt a warm hand encircle her left hand and concentrated on giving it a squeeze.
She woke up in a stark white room to the incessant beeping of a heart monitor. With a soft groan she twisted her head to the side and saw her mother asleep in a chair by her side, tear tracks visible on her face. "Mom?" she croaked. Her mother woke with a start. "Rosie! Oh thank goodness you're awake!" she exclaimed, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Rosie's forehead. "Mom, what happened?" Rosie was worried to see her mother's face drain of colour. "Let me just tell a nurse to call your doctor, okay Honey?" she said before disappearing out the door. She soon returned, accompanied by a middle aged man in a white coat and Rosie's father. "Well Miss Carter. I'm glad to see you're back with us. You've been in and out of consciousness for a few days now. Can you tell me what you remember?" Rosie stared at him in shock. A few days?! "I remember driving home from varsity and stopping to change CDs, and..." Rosie felt her heart begin to pound as the consequences of that stop came back to her in a rush. "I...I was attacked...and I ran...and I think I reached the highway? I don't remember anything else." The doctor nodded. "Luckily a passing motorist saw you by the side of the road and called an ambulance. You had some very serious injuries Miss Carter, but the worst was a compound fracture to your right forearm..." Reminded, Rosie turned her head to view the damage...and was met with a bandaged stump of an elbow and empty space where her forearm should be. Dimly she heard the doctor continue to speak, saying something about shattered bone and a raging infection. Turning wide, uncomprehending eyes on the doctor she stammered: "My arm?" She heard her mother choke back a sob and her father curse. "I am sorry Rosie," the doctor said, his voice filled with compassion. "We did everything we could but in the end the choice was between saving your life or saving your arm. I am so very sorry." With that he turned away and, after telling her parents he'd be back to check on her later, left the room.
Later that day, after a long interview with the police and convincing her parents she would be fine if they went home for a while to check on her sisters, Rosie lay in her hospital bed staring down at her broken and bandaged body. And she came to a painful realisation - Rosie Carter is dead. Her innocence and spontaneity gone, her trust and her carefree spirit had been broken. But along with that realisation she made a decision. Rosie Carter may have died, but Rose Carter would live. Born from the ashes of Rosie's once innocent life, Rose will face the world with a great deal more wariness and less trust. Rosie is gone, but Rose is a fighter. A survivor. One determined to live. And not just to live but to achieve happiness. Because, Rose understands that, even though time can not heal all wounds, it can dull the pain, dim it just enough, so life can triumph.
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Transition
Rosie Carter is dead. As painful as that truth may be, it is the truth nonetheless. Rosie had died somewhere between stopping her car to change CDs and waking up in a hospital several days later. Rosie Carter is dead. She had fought bravely, but in the end violent crime had claimed its prize.
She should have been shocked or at least surprised when it happened. Most people would be. But she wasn't. She was terrified yes, but in all honesty she had been waiting for this to happen to someone in her family at some point. Given the crime rate in South Africa it seemed inevitable, so instead of shock, her first conscious feeling was one of relief. Relief that she was to be the one, and not her mother or sisters. Despite her fatalistic belief in the inevitability of this happening, she had not placidly accepted that it would. Instead she had taken all the necessary precautions in the hope of staving off the event. No woman living in the country with the highest rape statistic in the world could afford to do otherwise, really. She always checked under her car and in the back seat when she returned to it. She always kept to the more public and well-lit parking lots. She didn't stop at stop streets or red robots late at night when no other cars were in sight. She had even gone for a women's self-defence training course and carried mace in her purse. She had thought that she had covered all the bases, but in the end it was the time of day that fooled her. And the cheerfulness of the mid-afternoon sunshine.
Rosie was taking the long way home. She knew her mother would scold her for it later, but it was just such a lovely day and she was in the mood for a drive. Living on a smallholding meant that there are several different routes to choose from to get home. Right now Rosie was speeding along her favourite route, one that she did not use often since it ran across a fairly isolated part of her family's land. The CD she had been listening to came to an end and she decided to stop and exchange it with the new one in her purse. In deference to the warm weather she had wound down her window to let the breeze into the car. That one act of complacency was a chink in her armour that she didn't recognise until too late. They came out of nowhere. When she looked up again they had surrounded the car. And there was a gun resting against the side of her head.
"Turn the engine off and get out of the car!" came the snarled command from the gun's owner. Rosie hesitated. For a brief moment she contemplated simply ramming the car into gear and racing away, regardless of the man in front of the car. The pressure of the gun barrel being pressed more firmly against her temple convinced her that those actions would take too long and a sideways glace at the speaker's cold eyes told her that she would pay dearly for disobeying. Slowly she reached for the keys and shut the engine off. The man reached through the window with his free hand and unlocked her door. He stepped back, but kept the gun firmly pointed at her head. "Now get out of the car." Rosie reached for her seatbelt release. As she did so her eyes fell on her purse lying on the floor on the passenger side. If she could reach it she could palm the mace inside...
Suddenly her door was jerked open and she was unceremoniously dragged from the car. "She taking too long, so I help a bit," the man now holding her explained to the gunman. The others hooted and cheered in agreement. Angrily Rosie yanked her arm out of his hold and loosed a vicious kick to his groin that forced him to his knees in agony. Stepping forward she rammed her knee into his face, breaking his nose and knocking him to the ground. "Look like we got us a feisty one!" one of the other men exclaimed, coming up behind her. Immediately Rosie turned to face him and unleashed a palm-strike to his jaw, sending him stumbling back. The jeering comments from the others were quickly replaced by menacing growls as they closed in to subdue her before she could inflict anymore damage. As two of them grabbed her arms to keep her still the gunman and clear leader stepped in front of her. Bringing his weapon to rest between her eyes he gave her a sinister smile that revealed a mouth full of surprisingly white teeth. "You should not have done that, "he said. "We were going to let you go and just take your car. By striking my brothers you crossed a line. Now you will be punished in accordance with the laws of our culture." He took a step back, and in a single movement turned the gun around and struck her across the face with it. Rosie's head snapped back with the force of the blow and she tasted blood from biting her tongue. Remembering a tactic from defence class Rosie let her body go limp. The sudden shift in her weight forced her captors to adjust their holds, allowing her to break free. Calling again on her training she swung her fist at the man on her left, hitting him just below the armpit and causing him to back away in pain. Sensing movement behind her, Rosie swung around and barely managed to bring her right arm up in time to block the crowbar from connecting with her head. The force of the blow drove her to her knees and the pain in her forearm wrenched a scream from her lips. A pair of shoes stopped in front of her. Glancing up she looked into the face of her first assailant. Roughly he grabbed hold of her left arm and hauled her to her feet, only to strike her across the face with a backhanded blow. As her head snapped to the side she saw that the rest of the men were now gathered around her car. Hopefully that meant it was almost over. If the gunman was telling the truth and all they wanted was the car...Her captor's next words brought her attention fully back to him. "Hey, Boss. Why we not take her with us? She needs to learn respect." The other man must have replied in the affirmative, because her captor began dragging her back towards the car.
Rosie's blood ran cold. Suddenly she could hear her mother's voice in her head, "Don't /go /anywhere with them. Fight them! Make them kill you here and now, but DO NOT get in the car with them." With renewed determination Rosie kicked backward and managed to hit the knee of the man pushing her towards the car. Her fondness for wearing hiking boots paid off as he cursed and loosened his hold on her arms. She reacted immediately, first ripping her left arm free then ramming her elbow backwards, as she had been taught in self-defence. She heard him grunt in pain as she connected with his solar plexus. Unfortunately the others had heard the struggle and were quickly making their way back from the car. Rosie spun on her heel and, nimbly dodging the attempted ankle-grab by the still heaving man on the ground, took off into the veldt at full speed. She could hear them yelling behind her and then the sounds of them crashing through the underbrush in pursuit. Adrenalin and pure fear combined to gift her with a swiftness and fleet-footedness she had never before exhibited. She didn't feel the bushes and branches slashing her legs and scraping her arms. The pain from her broken right arm faded into the background as everything Rosie had in her became focused on getting away from her would-be abductors. A gunshot split the air and Rosie stumbled before catching herself and picking up speed again. "A running target is almost impossible to hit, and the further away the target is the less likely even a lucky shot is to hit it". The lesson from the self-defence course raced through her thoughts. Jumping over a fallen tree Rosie skidded to a halt as she found herself facing a barbed wire fence. Hearing the sounds of pursuit she quickly scaled the low fence, forcing herself to use her now numb right arm and ignoring the new scratches the barbs bestowed. Landing on the other side, she took off again. Another shot sounded and Rosie was jerked forward as something slammed into her side. She barely managed to get her left arm in front of her in time to keep from landing face-first on the ground. A burning pain was now radiating from her right side, joined by the re-awakened agony of her broken right arm. For a moment Rosie couldn't breathe. Black spots started dancing in front of her eyes as she fought to bring the pain under control. A distant shout brought the world back into focus as she lunged to her feet and resumed running.
She could feel her blood pounding through her veins and her breathing was reduced to desperate gasping, her side was on fire, her scratches were burning and her legs felt like jelly, but still she ran. If they wanted her badly enough to chase her so far, across such rough terrain, then she was doubly determined not to be caught. She would not become another unsolved missing persons report or a part of the ever growing rape statistic! She would not do that to her family! Stumbling again Rosie looked up to see that the terrain was changing and that she was headed for a heavily wooded sector of the holding. Glancing behind her she couldn't see her pursuers. If she could reach the trees before they saw her she may be able to lose them! The idea gave her hope and with another burst of speed she crossed the tree-line. Immediately the bright afternoon sunshine subsided into the near-twilight that marked daytime in the woods. Though grateful for the cover the trees provided Rosie now found herself struggling to maintain her speed while dodging obstacles, rendered near invisible in the poor light. Stumbling over an unseen root Rosie crashed to her knees, barely able to bite back a scream of pain. Panting, she stayed put, too exhausted and hurt to move. With great effort she calmed her breathing enough to be able to listen for sounds of pursuit. Hearing nothing she let out a weary sigh. Gingerly she placed her left hand on her burning right side. Lifting the hand in front of her face, she was not surprise to see that it was now covered in blood. /Guess I wasn't moving fast enough to avoid that 'one-in-a-million' lucky shot/, she thought grimly. The only consolation was that the bullet had not actually entered her side. In actual fact it had scraped her waist, carving out a decent amount of flesh and causing some serious bleeding. Though painful, the furrow in her side meant that at least there was no danger of internal bleeding or injuries any of her internal organs. Bracing herself Rosie turned her attention to her right arm. This injury was far worse. Her forearm was discoloured and swollen and she had no feeling in her fingers. A shard of bone was sticking through the skin and catching sight of it, Rosie had to fight to keep from throwing up. A compound fracture. The most dangerous type of break possible, with a very high risk of infection. Rosie could feel hysterical laughter bubbling up in her throat. She was in the middle of the woods with a compound fracture to her right arm, a bullet crease on her right side, numerous cuts and bruises, no cell phone, and no idea in which direction she needed to go to reach home. Added to that was the possibility that those responsible for her injuries were still after her. At that thought Rosie forced herself to get back on her feet - she had fought too hard to escape to be caught now just because she was sitting around feeling sorry for herself. Picking a direction at random she set off, but at a slower pace than before. No need to aggravate her injuries by running when pursuit is no longer a clear problem.
For how long she stumbled on she didn't know. Full darkness had long since replaced the daytime twilight but Rosie refused to stop. Her attackers could be hiding anywhere in the darkness. Every strange sound seemed magnified and the world was cold and lonely. Her arm and side had long since stopped hurting and was now comfortably numb. In fact, her whole body felt mostly numb. She had the vague impression that she had climbed over another fence at some point, but she wasn't sure anymore. Everything around her was starting to blur together. She stumbled up a grassy incline and stopped in shock. In front of her was an asphalt road she recognised. The highway. She had somehow cut across a quarter of her family's land and reached the highway. There are always cars on the highway. I can just rest here until the next one comes along and then flag it down and ask for a lift or a phone. Decision made, she gratefully sank to the ground, not even realising when she closed her eyes.
She was drifting in a sea of soothing grey. Dimly she could hear someone calling her name, but she chose to ignore it. So comfortable... The voice was getting more and more insistent and the soft grey world was starting to fade away. And as it faded the she became aware of the pain. She could feel a hand on her face and opened her eyes. Or tried to - it took a lot more effort that she expected. "Miss Carter? Rosie can you hear me?" the voice sounded again, much clearer now. She finally managed to force her eyes open only to slam them shut immediately as the dizzying swirl of colours and lights assaulted her optic nerves. "I think she's coming around" the voice stated nearby. "Miss Carter? Can you hear me? My name is Joe Tarkin. I'm an EMT with the St John's Ambulance Service. You've been badly hurt and we're going to help you, okay? Squeeze my hand once if you understand me" Rosie felt a warm hand encircle her left hand and concentrated on giving it a squeeze.
She woke up in a stark white room to the incessant beeping of a heart monitor. With a soft groan she twisted her head to the side and saw her mother asleep in a chair by her side, tear tracks visible on her face. "Mom?" she croaked. Her mother woke with a start. "Rosie! Oh thank goodness you're awake!" she exclaimed, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Rosie's forehead. "Mom, what happened?" Rosie was worried to see her mother's face drain of colour. "Let me just tell a nurse to call your doctor, okay Honey?" she said before disappearing out the door. She soon returned, accompanied by a middle aged man in a white coat and Rosie's father. "Well Miss Carter. I'm glad to see you're back with us. You've been in and out of consciousness for a few days now. Can you tell me what you remember?" Rosie stared at him in shock. A few days?! "I remember driving home from varsity and stopping to change CDs, and..." Rosie felt her heart begin to pound as the consequences of that stop came back to her in a rush. "I...I was attacked...and I ran...and I think I reached the highway? I don't remember anything else." The doctor nodded. "Luckily a passing motorist saw you by the side of the road and called an ambulance. You had some very serious injuries Miss Carter, but the worst was a compound fracture to your right forearm..." Reminded, Rosie turned her head to view the damage...and was met with a bandaged stump of an elbow and empty space where her forearm should be. Dimly she heard the doctor continue to speak, saying something about shattered bone and a raging infection. Turning wide, uncomprehending eyes on the doctor she stammered: "My arm?" She heard her mother choke back a sob and her father curse. "I am sorry Rosie," the doctor said, his voice filled with compassion. "We did everything we could but in the end the choice was between saving your life or saving your arm. I am so very sorry." With that he turned away and, after telling her parents he'd be back to check on her later, left the room.
Later that day, after a long interview with the police and convincing her parents she would be fine if they went home for a while to check on her sisters, Rosie lay in her hospital bed staring down at her broken and bandaged body. And she came to a painful realisation - Rosie Carter is dead. Her innocence and spontaneity gone, her trust and her carefree spirit had been broken. But along with that realisation she made a decision. Rosie Carter may have died, but Rose Carter would live. Born from the ashes of Rosie's once innocent life, Rose will face the world with a great deal more wariness and less trust. Rosie is gone, but Rose is a fighter. A survivor. One determined to live. And not just to live but to achieve happiness. Because, Rose understands that, even though time can not heal all wounds, it can dull the pain, dim it just enough, so life can triumph.
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