I believe life is a tapestry. Each thread affects not only the ones next to it, but the piece as a whole. Every thread is a moment in time. Some moments are more vivid while most just make up the background. There are two strands in my tapestry that stand out more than the rest.
I was sitting in honors English talking to Christina, a girl I know from school. This day, she told me about a special high school, The Indiana Academy, for gifted and talented students. She seemed very excited as she told me that this high school was for above average people, but still had normal things like prom, clubs, and sports teams. I acted if I was happy for her, but I was hurt that I was not offered the same opportunity. I went home and told my mother. She informed me that I had received a letter from them too. We looked at the school, and this place seemed too good to be true. I applied, and after several grueling weeks of waiting, I got the call. Accepted. In August I arrived. I made new friends and learned more in a semester than I ever did at home. Everything went beautifully.
With a semester under my belt my mother and I pack the car to drive back to school. We are almost there and I am excited to return and see my friends after three long weeks apart. As we accelerate into the intersection on that January afternoon, I look to my left and there it is. A truck is barreling at us at nearly 60 miles an hour. I scream and my mom tries to speed up, but it’s not enough. We’re hit. I close my eyes. We spin. We stop. By the time I open my eyes there are others stopped and running to our car. My mom’s eyes are closed as she slumps over the console. I try and wake her, but fail. She wakes up before the ambulance arrives. She is breathing fast and panics trying to get enough air. She is pinned to the door. Later, the doctor informs us that her injuries are quite severe and survival is slim. She is in a coma at the hospital right behind my dorm. I visit her every day. They do tests and never tell me what is going to happen. The nurses know me by name. They see my dress the night of our semi formal dance because I wanted to make sure mom saw my outfit too. I keep my grades up so when she wakes up she can be proud. After a month, the doctors tell me they are moving her to a long term care facility across town. They don’t say it, but they don’t believe she will improve. Just days after the move, something happens. She wakes up and reaches for the stuffed animal we had brought to her. She is conscious. Everything is going to be okay.
These events are two that started as something very small but became life-altering. The academy changed me not only academically; it changed the entire course of my life. I left my average, confused friends for people that not only could do multi variable calculus in their sleep, but also people that had drive to become what they wanted, lawyers, writers, teachers, and rocket scientists. As for my mom, she is in better health than before the accident. Had I not gone to the academy, the accident would not have happened. Without the accident, the everyday events that make my tapestry would be unappreciated and the main design wouldn’t be as bright. Now I have learned that every thread is special, and in life, there is no backstitching.
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