Cindy's Fall

Written by mabauterklamm and YamaguchiShun

Language check by @jima378

Cindy gasped. She was completely out of breath and the sweat not only made her brunette hair stick to her forehead but was also collecting under her casts. The padding of her pink casted legs soaked up the liquid and her casted feet felt as if they were wrapped in wet rags. Still, she struggled forward, step by step, limp by limp, aided only by the mobility of her hips and her iron will, whose irrepressibility surprised even herself. Sensing curious, disbelieving glances from passersby resting on her and hearing their whispers as she hobbled past them, she felt challenged rather than embarrassed. She, Cindy, would show everyone that she could take care of herself, even without avoiding all risks like a wimp. She was a master at keeping her balance. And where Polly needed a crutch to walk on two legs casts, Cindy managed without one. Well... as for the crutches, she ultimately had no choice, as both of her arms were trapped in two short arm casts, all of her fingers were in casts or small traction devices, and the pink casts were attached with bars to a ring cast around her flat stomach.

Though, Lena was right: it was just against Cindy's nature to be confined to a hospital bed and be cared for. As long as she was still able to somehow walk under her own power and take care of herself, she should do it! And now she was on her way home in spite of two broken legs, bound to pink stiff fiberglass casts. On her left leg, stretched straight at the knee, she placed a walking heel on the ground, step for step. On the other leg, Lena, the hospital's new boss, had had a kind of support pole attached to the bent knee that resembled a peg leg. She kind of felt like a pirate who had had both arms and legs blown off by cannonballs, but with boundless determination refused to give up.

But now Cindy was soon home. And she was looking to call her old friend Joy later that day. It would be such a pleasure to meet her again, although her friend would most likely be shocked to see Cindy's poor health condition. But that's a topic she would clarify when Joy will come for a visit. All she had to do now was hobble down a last slope. There, until recently, one had had to go down a steep flight of stairs. But fortunately, the city government had installed a small elevator there, which was more than convenient for Cindy with her current condition on a day like today.

However, as she limped into view of the elevator at her slow, but steady pace, her enthusiasm was curbed. Where a small line of older people had usually formed, it was now all empty. Instead, there was clearly a large piece of paper hanging there, and Cindy feared it would tell her bad news.

Sure enough, when Cindy was able to read the text a minute later, she had the shattering certainty that the elevator was out of service. And Cindy didn't like the additional notice on the sign at all. For it urged her to take the stairs. A staircase that was narrow and even steeper than the stairs on the lookout point in Central Park.

On the other hand, turning back was definitely not an option! And even taking the shortest detour would certainly cost her a considerable amount of extra time. And she was, she secretly had to admit, already exhausted and just wanted to get home and lie down as soon as possible.

While she was still gasping for breath, an old lady pushed past her. She could barely walk faster than Cindy and was bending her head with loopy white hair over a walker. To Cindy's horror, she purposefully kept her heading for the stairs.

"Stop, wait!" called Cindy after her, taking two more stiff steps with difficulty until she stopped beside her.

The old lady turned around and as if only now really noticing Cindy, her gray eyes widened in astonishment in her wrinkled face.

"Do you need help getting down the stairs, young lady?" she asked helpfully in the typically brittle voice of old ladies.

Cindy's face turned red and she smiled wryly. "Well, actually, I wanted to offer you my help."

"Well, that's very kind of you." The old lady ran her gaze searchingly over Cindy's casted body parts and her light blue soft neck brace before shaking her head. "You'd better stay in the hospital in your condition, young lady!"

Cindy cleared her throat. With her forearms connected to her abdominal cast, she could only shrug her shoulders in the most pitiful way. "That's where I just came from!"

"And I don't want to go there," said the old lady. "I thank you for your offer, but I think it will be safer for me to go down the stairs on my own."

She turned and slowly, but surprisingly confidently, descended the stairs one step at a time.

Cindy looked after her, dumbfounded, and she would have liked to rub her eyes to see if she wasn't dreaming this. But her casted arms were forced to stay at the level of her stomach next to her body.

True, her legs ached and by now her back and shoulders hurt from constantly trying to keep her balance. But if this frail woman could walk down the stairs with a walker, so could Cindy with her four limbs in casts.

Cautiously, she took a step down with her right leg with the attached walking stick and then dragged her leg in the long leg walking cast behind it. She swayed ominously and her injured fingers, caught in the traction devices twitched painfully.

'Step by step! Take it easy!' she murmured to herself, pushing her tongue between her lips in concentration. She took the time she needed. However, sweat broke out again and this time it burned her eyes because she couldn't wipe it away with her hands.

"Can you go any faster?" she suddenly heard a croaking female voice behind her.

Because of her neck brace, Cindy couldn't turn around, but when something touched her back, she realized that someone was pushing right behind her. Here on this steep stairs, of all places!

"I'm late for my bingo night!" the croaking voice said reproachfully. Again, something dug into Cindy's back and nearly pushed her down the stairs.

"Easy, easy!" cried Cindy. "I'm going as fast as I can. But you might be able to help me."

"No, no! That's not a good idea! I've got a broken foot in a cast myself and I'm in a hurry." Again the cane bumped against Cindy's back. "Do you have a cast around your back there, too, girl?! You belong in a hospital, you know!"

"That's where I just came from. And if you don't push so hard, I won't have to go back either. Can you please stop picking at my back with your crutch."

"It's a walking stick, not a crutch, girl! But I'm stopping already to bother you. Just walk faster, will you?"

"Excuse me? 'Just faster'?" Cindy's voice rolled over in indignation. What had happened to all those nice old ladies in need of help. Since when were there so many go-getters in this age group?

"Faster, please!" The woman behind her just wouldn't let up, and Cindy had a feeling she was already getting right behind her. "There's a lot of money at stake for me in bingo!"

"Yes, I do my best!" snapped Cindy. Actually, she was getting the hang of it. She had mastered the technique to go down the stairs and now, practically like a robot, all she had to do was descend one step at a time.

"Faster, please!" the woman behind her urged her. Her voice sounded similarly old to that of the woman with the walker, who was already out of sight. Cindy blinked the sweat from her eyes, mustered her last reserves of strength and actually picked up speed. Of course, compared to a healthy person, she was still slow as a snail. But Cindy felt like her legs were whirling like a hurricane down the steep steps.

But then, halfway down the stairs it happened. Cindy was so in the flow of her repetitive movements, and her gaze directed more forward than down because of her neck brace, that she completely missed the larger-area step in the middle of the stairs. Here she would have had to take two steps on level ground before going down another step. Cindy placed her left leg as if expecting a step down, and thus kicked the stone with high force. At first Cindy was startled, and for a split second she expected waves of pain to flood her body because of the impact. But the pain stopped at that moment for the more terrifying reason that the stick broke under her right leg cast.

Cindy gave a short scream as she lost her balance. Headlong, She tumbled down the stairs and was unable to catch herself with her broken arms as they had to stay in place right next to her belly. Reflexively, she tried to turn by shifting her weight in the air. She could still hear the woman behind her saying laconically "It wasn't necessary that fast now." Then she bounced sideways on the steps and her casts broke one by one as she rolled down the rest of the stairs.

The thought "Polly, what have I done?" flashed through her mind as she lay wrapped in an aura of pain as a pile of twisted casted limbs at the bottom of the stairs. Even screaming hurt her too much. Despite the roaring in her ears, she perceived horrified whispers from passersby who were apparently looking at the distorted heap of her body.

Into Cindy's limited field of vision stepped a black casted foot with a blue cast shoe that had to belong to the jostling woman, whose voice now seemed much clearer calling for an ambulance.

Then merciful darkness extinguished Cindy's burning pain.