This story is about Arianna's great granddaughter, Hope. She was sent across the Gap in order to save her from a Crisis. But like her Great Grandma, her legs were hurt too. So begins the Saga of Hope…
Chapter One – The Crossing
I sighed as I watched the rain run down the window. Kids were playing in the rain down in the back yard. They laughed as they jumped and ran down the walk. Happiness bubbled from them. I sat there watching, remembering my handicap.
I couldn't walk. Two years ago I was able to run and jump, but now I was paralyzed from the waist down. I was bound to my wheel chair, unable to do anything on my own, all because of a car crash.
Exactly two years ago, the night before my thirteenth birthday, my parents were driving me home from a special dinner they had taken me to, to celebrate by thirteenth birthday. We were having fun, laughing and talking, when a drunk driver had collided with us. Dad had tried to swerve out of the way, but the driver was going too fast. Both my parents died instantly, and I had been paralyzed. It was the worst birthday gift one could ever receive.
After that, I had been placed in three foster homes. Each had sent me away, frustrated by the work they had to do for me every day. The one I was in now had three kids, all younger than me by at least seven years and was in the country. They were well to do and had a housekeeper that helped me up in the morning.
Tonight was the night before my fifteenth birthday, marking the second anniversary of my parents' death. It was raining, suiting my mood. My heart had broken at my parent's death and had never healed. Everyone thought that I needed to be treated special because I had a handicap. Every day I woke to be reminded of the person who killed my parents.
Wheeling out of the room I had been given, I ventured downstairs, using the ramp they had installed for me. I was greeted by a gathering of people I had never known, each yelling out happy birthday to me. A banner with my name scrawled across it hung from the rafters.
My mind flashed back to the last birthday party I had had. This was too much. I saw my parent's faces again, laughing and talking with me. I saw the banner with my name on it.
Tears trickled down my cheeks as I saw what they had done. For the last year, I had moved from home to home, detached from everything, especially the memory of my parents. Now the hate I bore towards people and their ability to walk came rushing back with my hurt.
Turning around, I wheeled out of the house and into the rain, not caring that I was soaked. People called for me to come back, but I kept going, into the woods at the back of the house.
I don't know how far I went into the woods, but all I saw was my pain. My hate for those who could walk drove me forward. Soon a light emerged from the forest and I headed for it.
Finally reaching it, the world whirled around me. I was lost in the light. My clothes and hair dried, and somewhere along the way I lost my wheelchair. A tingling sensation went through my legs, as I fell to the ground.