**WALKING TO THE STARS**
“Williams, breakfast.” The nurse wheeled a cart into the ward. Lucy barely opened her eyes and reluctantly turned her head toward the door.
“No, thank you,” she replied.
“Oh come on, miss, you need to gain your strength.” Following the nurse, Dr. Stevens entered the room.
Lucy stayed silent. The nurse quickly placed a bowl of porridge and a cup of tea on the bedside table and whispered, “Eat up, Dr. John is right,” before quickly leaving the room.
“How’s your mood? Feeling a bit like spring?” Dr. John Stevens smiled.
“Not exactly,” Lucy replied glumly, turning to look out of the window.
“That’s good,” ignoring her tone, the doctor continued, “The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow,” he said more seriously.
“Will the chances improve?” Lucy turned back to him.
“Undoubtedly. Although full recovery isn’t on the cards just yet,” Dr. John confessed.
“Will I be able to walk?” Lucy tensed.
“I don’t want to give you false hope,” Dr. John responded after a pause, “But we must try everything possible.”
“Understood…” Lucy turned away again, not even hearing Dr. John leave or the springlike chirping of the birds outside.
The accident was horrific. Lucy’s friend Sarah was driving. In an attempt to avoid an oncoming car, Sarah swerved sharply, causing the car to spin on the slippery road, and a collision was unavoidable. The main impact was on the passenger side where Lucy was. She regained consciousness only in the hospital. As she later discovered, Sarah suffered less, with a broken arm and a concussion. Lucy had several broken ribs, an open leg fracture, and, most critically, a spinal injury. The prognosis was bleak; the odds of her walking again were slim. Others might have been grateful just to be alive, but for Lucy, the world had ceased to exist in a heartbeat. Dancing was everything to her: her life, her livelihood, her inspiration. Movement was as essential to her as air is to others. And now?
The next blow was from Tom’s reaction. They had been dating for two years, and Tom had recently proposed to her. Two weeks ago, as Tom sat beside her in the ward, Lucy understood without words that there would be no wedding. When she shared the doctors’ prognosis, Tom sat for a long time, pondering, staring at the floor before saying unsteadily, “You still have to stay positive. Everything will get better.”
He didn’t visit for the next three days. Then a short message came from him: “Sorry. I can’t do this.” Inwardly, the final thread of hope snapped. Lucy no longer cried, she simply stared at the white ceiling with vacant eyes, imagining it collapsing onto her and ending everything.
Her mother gently stroked her hand, trying to comfort her, attempting to smile, insisting that not all was lost, that they would fight together. Yet, Lucy saw her mother’s eyes, red from the tears she shed after leaving the room. Dr. John, her attending physician, kept encouraging her to fight.
“Why?” Lucy asked one day.
“To be happy,” Dr. John simply answered.
“I’ll never be happy again,” Lucy responded. Dr. John looked at her intently.
“You will be. But it depends more on you than on others. I don’t have extensive experience, but I’ve met people who have overcome what seemed impossible, leaving even incurable illnesses behind because they wanted to live, to enjoy life, to be happy.”
Lucy said nothing. She didn’t want to live, not like this. How could there be any happiness? She would have asked the doctor, but decided against continuing the conversation. After all, it’s probably standard for doctors to encourage their patients.
“Still awake?” Dr. John gently opened the door, allowing a sliver of light into the dark room.
“I am,” Lucy replied, not even noticing he had switched to a more informal tone.
“Nervous?” he asked, taking a seat by the window.
“No.” Lucy shrugged.
“Can you imagine if the accident hadn’t happened, and it’s ten years later? What would your life be like?” Dr. John asked, gazing out the window rather than at her.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’d still be performing. Or maybe I’d be taking my daughter to dance classes.” Lucy smiled faintly, then remembered her wedding hadn’t happened. “You know, he left me. As soon as he found out, he left.”
“Who?” Dr. John had already guessed. “Do you think he loved you?”
“I don’t know.” Lucy shrugged again. “Maybe it’s only in romantic films where they love so much they’d go through fire and water, but in real life, they just promise to get a star from the sky, but in reality, well…” Lucy paused, realizing Dr. John was also a man. Quite a young and handsome one, she noticed. He probably had a wife or girlfriend and treated her very differently. Surely he wouldn’t falter in such a situation. After all, he was even supporting her, a complete stranger.
“Alright, Williams, sleep tight. You’ll have your stars.” Dr. John left. Lucy looked out the window. A patch of starry sky was indeed visible. “If only a star would fall now,” she thought, but no stars fell, at least not before she drifted off to sleep.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. John stood at the foot of her bed. “Dr. Miller said the surgery went well.”
“Maybe. But I still can’t feel my legs,” Lucy sighed.
“Look what I brought you.” Dr. John handed her a small box. Lucy opened it and smiled. Inside was a collection of shiny little star confetti. “Keep working hard, and you’ll reach real stars by foot,” Dr. John promised.
Rehabilitation was lengthy and exhausting, and to Lucy, it seemed unfruitful. John, now she called him just by his first name too, often stopped by. They chatted like old friends, discussing all sorts of topics. John had this knack for keeping her spirits up, making her almost believe that her efforts wouldn’t go in vain.
“How’s today?” John asked after Lucy’s daily exercises, during which a nurse tried to awaken her unresponsive legs.
“Alright.” Lucy shrugged.
“The lilacs have bloomed,” John handed her a fluffy sprig. Lucy breathed in the fresh, tickling scent before eagerly searching for a lucky five-petal flower.
“Nothing here either.” Lucy pouted, raising her eyes.
“How about here?” John handed her another little box. She smiled, expecting another batch of stars. But upon opening it, she froze. A small stone that sparkled like a star in the sunlight was set on the band.
“Will you marry me?” John asked, as Lucy shifted her gaze from the ring to him. She didn’t answer immediately. John exhaled nervously and sat on the bed.
“You’re on my foot…” she quietly noted. “You’re on my foot!” she exclaimed, laughing. “You’re on my foot! I can feel it! I can feel my foot!”
John jumped up and laughed along with her. Then Lucy started crying. She smiled, but tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” John worried. Lucy shook her head:
“Remember, I said I’d never be happy again. I truly believed that. But today, there’s so much happiness at once. If you aren’t afraid to marry someone with a disability, I hope tears won’t scare you either?” she laughed again.
“Nothing scares me,” John replied, gazing at his fiancée with affection.
***
“Mum, did you see? I did it!” Sophie ran up to the bench where Lucy sat.
“Of course, I did. I even recorded it for Dad. You’re amazing.” Lucy hugged her daughter.
“Miss Johnson said I’ll be dancing in the center,” Sophie boasted. “Does that mean I’m the best?”
“Yes,” Lucy whispered, sharing a secret. “But shhh, if you get cocky, it won’t work out.” Sophie nodded wisely. “Now let’s pack up and go meet Dad from work.”
Ten years had passed. Lucy couldn’t perform on a big stage anymore but danced gracefully at her own wedding, much to John’s amusement, who admitted she danced far better than him. The journey to the stars had been long for Lucy, but with John, they succeeded. To always remind themselves to believe in the best and to dream no matter what, Lucy suggested painting their bedroom ceiling like a starry sky. John agreed. Each morning, looking up, Lucy knew she could reach any star she wanted, always and forever.
