The ocean’s waves crashed down with a thundering bellow. Lia dived under the water, the saltiness engulfing her, her hair getting tangled into masses of knots. She scraped her knee against the uneven ocean floor that consisted of the debris of sunken ships and broken shells. The burn caused by the salt made her shoot up out of the water. The sun beat down on her, its rays so blinding she had to block the light with her hands. Lia turned around towards the long strand of white sand that stretched all the way out to the rocks. She saw the innumerous amount of people on the beach. She could see women tanning in the summer sun, kids throwing a ball between them, babies crawling towards the shade under the umbrella, and empty beer cans being tossed onto the ground.
Lia turned back around, looking out at the blue of the ocean merging with the dim color of the sky. If she could just pass the breaking point, she could float around without being tossed by the wrath of the ocean. She kicked off, using her arms to propel her forward. Underwater, Lia heard the rippling of water, a sensation that caused all of reality to seem so far away as if she had entered a completely different world. When her lungs began to burn because of the lack of air, she pushed herself off the floor. There were no longer people in her view, but small smudges of dull colors.
The ocean had tamed. Lia floated, her eyes closed so they didn’t water. The only noise was the crashing of waves that felt so far away. She hoped that her mother wouldn’t be able to see that she had gone so far out. The fact that no one was dragging her back to shore was a good sign, but the worry ruined her sense of placidity. Her face was becoming warm, the beginning of a severe sunburn, so she let herself sink back into the cool ocean water. There was nothing much to do out there, and now the warnings of her nanny echoed in her head. Make sure you stay in your mother’s view. The ocean might look pretty, but it is deadly. The words sent shivers down Lia’s spine, causing all the hairs on her arms and legs to stick up.
She couldn’t touch the floor without going under. Despite being the best on her swim team, there was a big difference between swimming in the deep end in the pool than in the ocean. Lia could see the shore. If she just swam at a fast pace, she would be in the wading section in a few seconds. The water had turned to an opaque dark blue, the clear turquoise long gone. Nothing could be seen beneath the surface — besides a large black shadow. It was moving at a fast pace towards her. The ominous shadow swam at her and within a second Lia knew what she was up against — a shark.
Sharks were hard to escape. It was better if you didn’t swim or kick around, but this critical knowledge slipped her mind. She thrashed about, trying to swim forward but ending up getting nowhere. She had swum miles before, but all of a sudden her body felt fatigued as if swimming a few yards was a travail. Lia didn’t dare go beneath the surface, in fear that she would open her eyes to see the wanton black eyes of the shark and mouth full of curved and malignant teeth. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart. The shore was coming into view, and Lia screamed, desperate to get out of the water.
She locked eyes with a man on the beach; his eyes moved towards the black shadow, and he screamed. Lia could feel the water becoming shallower. Water was splashing against her mouth causing hard labored breathing. Her toes just barely scraped the sand at the bottom and — Lia plunged into the water, her hands looking for her ankle, which was throbbing in pain. The water was pushing down hard on her lungs, and something latched onto her leg. Her ankle was burning and screaming in agony, and Lia cried for help, but her cries were silenced by the fierceness of the ocean.
Lia was being tossed side to side. The force of the water was pressing her chest down and crushing it. All she could see was the red that had pervaded the water like the crimson curtains in a theater closing at the intermission.
***
There was faint beeping in the distance, or was it close? Lia couldn’t tell. She felt nothing at all, just a numbness that had spread over her entire body. Her eyes were weighted down, something itching them, but her fingers wouldn’t respond to her call for movement.
“Lia, are you awake?”
Her name was spoken by an unfamiliar voice, a high feminine one that cracked as she uttered the last word. Lia’s tongue moistened her parched mouth, hoping that her lips would unglue themselves.  As her lips unsealed, she muttered, “Yeah.”
Forcing her eyelids open, her vision slowly became clear. The room was overwhelmed with white. Hospital. Sterile furniture was placed in the corner of the room by the window that was flooding the room with light. Lia’s eyes glanced at the woman in front of her. She held a laminated piece of paper, a pen dancing over the surface. Something itched her neck; her hands tugged at the prickly hospital clothing. Memories whizzed together in her mind, slowly clicking together like a jigsaw puzzle.
The woman pulled up a chair, the wooden legs scraping the marble floor. She smiled as she placed the laminated paper on her lap. Her gray eyes quickly glanced at the monitor next to Lia and then back at her again.
“My name’s Dr. Turner.” She paused and looked down as if taken back by a sudden sadness that cut off her voice. It wasn’t hard to see the sorrow that hid behind her eyes. “Lia, do you remember anything about the incident?”
Lia searched her memories but was constantly pushed back by a force field of red and black. She shook her head. Dr. Turner gave a sad smile, her eyes emanating sympathy. Her thin fingers wrapped around Lia’s hands, their coldness sending shivers through her body. The other hand brought a bright red teddy bear to Lia’s side. Dr. Turner then placed both her hands on Lia’s.
“Lia, two days ago you were attacked by a shark. Do you remember that?”
Lia shook her head again, reiterating the response she had just done a minute ago. But as she closed her eyes, she made it past the red and black force field. Her mind was flooded with blues and green and then red, a dark red that scared Lia. Her eyes opened, the gray eyes of Dr. Turner staring right at her. Attacking implied getting injured and as Lia scanned her body, she noticed nothing of the sort, except a strange sensation. Nothing looked scraped or burnt or red from dried blood, nothing ached or pierced, but something felt missing. She wriggled her toes and noticed that only one side of the itchy hospital blanket was moving.
Dr. Turner let out a cry of warning as Lia slowly pulled the blanket off. Pieces of the material stuck to Lia’s uneven and chipped nails. And just as quickly as she reassured herself that everything was fine her heart skipped a beat. Because under the blanket was one foot. Five toes, not ten. One ankle. There was a stump right below her knee. Nothing. That’s what Lia felt, and then the realization came. Her mind didn’t fly to the struggles that would come but to swimming. How could you swim without a leg? And track. How could you win with one leg?
A tissue was stuffed into Lia’s hand.  She saw Dr. Turner holding the colorful box of tissues, her hand ready to pull out another one. Lia looked down at the tissue with an anomalous look. Maybe the old Lia would have bawled her eyes out. Maybe she would have shrieked and pushed Dr. Turner away because of the grief. But she wasn’t the old Lia. So she pushed away the tissue and shook her head. There was no point in crying. Crying didn’t do anything. It didn’t help the situation; it just made it worse. Dr. Turner glanced at the tissue and moved to get another one. Lia pushed her hand away from the box and shook her head again. No, it was easier to pull away than to cry. To act as if there was nothing good left in the world.
***
The raindrops pelted the windows, and the sky cried out. Light flashed in the darkness. Lia sat in her wheelchair facing the miserable setting. Outside on the street, she saw her neighbors running around and screaming. The little voice inside her head told her to wish they would get struck by lightning. Told her to hope for a car that would come down and crush their innocent little bones. Told her to revel in their misfortune. Schadenfreude. Lia had taken a certain liking for the word since her accident.
A knock on the door interrupted her reverie. She glanced at her mother who stood in the doorway.
“Leave me alone,” said Lia.
Her mother forced a smile. “Honey, Josh is here.”
“Josh?” Who the heck was Josh? Unless the accident had triggered amnesia, there was and had been no Josh in her life. “Who the heck is he?”
The smile wiped off her face, Lia’s mom slid onto her bed. “Dave was supposed to tell you. I invited the son of the Puckerson’s to hang out with you.”
Lia had vague memories of the family. They were Jewish, not super strict, but strict enough to know without talking to them. Their son, Josh, was adopted. That’s all she knew, and she didn’t need any more information. “Why did you invite him?”
“Well, Josh struggles with a disability too. He’s blind. I was h—”
Lia lost hold of her sanity. Her mother? Even her mother did it. “So you thought I would like him. Oh, let’s put a blind boy and an amputee girl together because they’re so alike. Well, guess what, mom; I don’t give a crap about this blind boy. For all I care, he can walk right into a car’s path. Just because I’m missing a leg doesn’t mean I need sympathy. For God’s sake, look at you. You can’t even find a proper job. You think working as a cashier for some crap store at the mall is a job, ha! I’m embarrassed for you. Even Dave is. Why do you think he never visits for the holidays? No wonder dad drove his car off the cliff. He couldn’t be seen with a loser like —”
“SHUT UP!” Lia’s mom was on the verge of tears. Her face was stained bright red. “I just wanted to make you feel better. Just say hi. That’s all I ask.
Lia grabbed her crutches that leaned against the window. She started towards the living room. Luckily her bedroom was on the first floor. Sitting by the living room window was boy— Josh. He didn’t look like a Josh. He was too frumpy, too chubby and red to be a Josh. He looked like a Ben — no, more like a Walter. Lia hobbled over to the chair across from him. Could he sense her? She remembered her science teacher saying how blind people had better hearing.
“I know you’re there,” Josh said, answering her question as if she asked the question aloud. His stiff posture made her uncomfortable, and his milky eyes looked dead. “Should I leave?”
“What?”
“I might be blind, but I’m not deaf. And if I’m lucky enough, maybe I’ll cross the street at the same time a car comes down, so it’ll hit me.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Lia bit her lip, regretting everything she had said. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“Sorry for sounding so… so stupid.”
“But you’re not.” Lia froze, as Josh looked —no turned — towards the window. “You’re just saying you’re sorry. You don’t really mean it. Hardly anyone means it. It’s become just a little word that we say when we regret something. Doesn’t having any meaning at all.”
He turned back towards her, his dead eyes reflecting nothing. Lia couldn’t help but turn away. What was she supposed to say?
“You don’t have to pity yourself,” said Josh. “You don’t have it that bad.”
Lia shouted, “Really, I can’t do anything now! I might as well cut off the other leg.” Josh smiled. “What’s so funny?”
“You. Have you ever thought about those who don’t live in such an industrial and affluent country like ours? What about the children who don’t have anesthetic when amputating their legs or arms? How ‘bout the kids who weren’t saved from the sharks? What about them? Who pities the orphans and the ones that are just forgotten? You might have a disability, and maybe it does restrict something, but you don’t have it bad compared to others. Trust me.” Josh’s face went redder than before, his dead eyes bulging out, ready to pop. He grabbed his cane and pushed off the chair. The tapping of the cane broke the silence in the room.
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I don’t think my presence will be much missed here.” More taps. As Josh entered the hallway, he turned back one more time. “ Don’t pity yourself. It only makes you more miserable.” Lia knew he was gone when the tapping of his cane faded into nothing.
***
Lia couldn’t hear anything over the loud cheers of the crowd. Her feet stuck to the cold surface. Next to her were her competitors. Suddenly everyone was climbing onto their starting block. Lia must have missed the signal. She climbed up, her fingers twitching from the nervous energy that ran through her body. The crowd’s enthusiasm warmed Lia like a winter coat. Another whistle. She readied herself for the final signal, the signal that would start the fight of her life. Boom! It is only when the splashes of her competitors hit her in the face that she realized it had started. She dived into the water.
Underwater, she opened her eyes to see the crystal clear water. The lines on the floor were visible. Up ahead she could see the kicking feet of the swimmer next to her. Lia kicked harder, determination flooding her veins, pumping her muscles until they ached. As she neared the wall, the image of teeth with blood on them flashed across her mind. But she wouldn’t let memories ruin the present.
She saw someone heading towards her. Lia had to swim faster. All the adrenaline that she had left in her was used. All she could hear was the splashing of water, a sensation that caused all of reality to seem so far away as if she had entered a completely different world. Soon the colorful bathing suits of other swimmers were behind her, a blur of color in her stride. One more turn. Her leg scraped the wall as she flipped. As if the commentator’s voice was shouting in her ear, Lia could almost hear the voices of those outside of the water.
A blur of green caught Lia’s eye, and a pair of legs took the lead. No. Lia propelled her arms faster, kicked harder, and closed her eyes so that she was only focusing on one thing: touching the wall. She kicked, then propelled, then kicked, and propelled again. And then her fingernails scraped a cold material. Her head popped out of the water and voices were blending in with the cheers. But all Lia could hear was the voice of the commentator: Lia Barker has won her first gold medal in the 2016 Paralympics.