I’ll Stumble, I’ll Fall, I’ll Get Up Again, Chapter Two: Rewrites

I stared at Doctor Whitley waiting nervously for the new I knew would change my life. I found myself both anxious and afraid to know.

Krista and Mom sat on chairs, beside my bed, gently squeezing my hand. They knew something was wrong, we were all waiting for answers. Answers that could change my life

As I lay in the hospital bed, I felt more like the woman who had signed a contract for a major motion picture based on her latest best seller, nor did I feel like the author, giving advice to new writers, I always told them the same thing, don’t write like me, write like yourself. The same thing I had been told by my Freshmen English teacher. Words had always been part of my life. I loved reading from the time I was little, wrote bad poetry when I was younger, but in High School I began my first novel. A story about a small town girl with big city dreams.

Doctor Whitley cleared his throat, I returned my attention to the present. The doctor and his grim expression.

At least I’m not going to die. My injuries weren’t fatal, the doctor has already told me that much. I know it could have been.

You must have something planned for me Lord.