I donīt know how me living with the Hansons realy started, actually I do, but itīs really confusing, you see, I had been at hospital for like three whole months, I had some big pro in my legs, (it all began in a soccer game...but thats a long story) and doctors had no idea what I had, I wasnīt scared, the only spooky thing about it was that I could of lost both my legs, plus the doctors (who had become practically my best friends) said it was never gonna be mortal.
Well, obviously, hospital costs money, and my parents were running out of it, they had not been working for the last ..two months, and there bosses didnīt want to pay them for nothing for more time, so mom and dad had to return to their jobs, the only problem was, dad is a diplomatic, and he was gonna be sent for two years away from Oklahoma (I lived in Oklahoma city) to Italy, and my mom is a nature conserver, and SHE had been invited, for free, to India, she was thrilled, even if she told me she wasnīt, it showed in her eyes, eyes tell you everything, or at least I think so, and I can read eyes. So I convinced her to go, told her Iīd be fine, but..where should I go to??? Well, this actually is where it all begined, my mom is best friends with Diana Hanson, and Diana said that, since "the boys" (You guess who THEY are) were off for a two month spring break, only with little things now and then, she could take care of me for the time being, she said I was like her daughter (and I had NEVER met her in my life) and that sheīd care for me for free. Naturally, mom accepted. I could barely believe it, I mean, I had always known mom was best buds with the Hansonīs mom, but I had never met them, when mom went to visit her, or I was punished, or she didnīt wanna take me, or like last time, I was at the hospital. Iīm not what you call shy, but lately I am, and I was gonna meet some of my best singerz too, so.... plus, I was going to be like a total invalid in that house, Iīd feel ridiculous, and THAT made me get very shy.
Let me explain now how my leg thing goes. Its just this bone I have, thatīs kinda wierd, its curable, I think, the doctors are working on me, they say that some day (not so far now) I will be operated and will be fine. I really hope so, I just couldnīt live without sports and legs. Donīt get me wrong, I can walk and all, but I have to take care that my legs (the right one specially) donīt get harmed or anything, and I have to go for check-up at least two times a week, to a hospital that is afiliated to the one I spent three months in. I gotta try not to walk so much, at least for a month (so Iīd only get ONE more month to have real fun with the Hansons) Its real hard, plus everyone babies me, and doesnīt want me to stand up, and they get nervous when I walk, and I totally detest that, thats why I refused to go live with grandma. I really hope these kinda things donīt happen at the Hansonīs.
So let me tell ya `bout me: Iīm 13 years old, and Iīm normal sized for my age, my birthday is on March 10th. I have reddish-brown hair, some freckels over my white-kinda tanned face, and Aqua-marine blueish color eyes, I have thick, a little more than shoulder-length hair, thatīs like to the insides, and I got bangs at each side of my face. My hair is straight. I suppose I īm pretty, I mean, I īm not ugly, so..anyways, I have a good body too, my friends use to bug me asking if I was a model, I never thought it was funny, I guess flattering, but I never want to sound like Ms. Perfect, so I never paid attention to them.
So there I was, that Sunday afternoon November 1st (why did we have to get there on a Sunday!! everyoneīs with the family on Sundays!!! sheesh!!, that meant: more embarrasement!) with my mom (dad was in Italy already), and we were about to knock on the Hansons doorbell. "Are you going to be okay sweetheart??" my mother asked me stroking my tangled up hair (Oh yeah, it gets tangled ALL day) I took in a bunch of air and let it go slowly, then I nodded. "Yeah" I mumbled, even if I felt SO nervous. And then my mom rang the doorbell. My heart began to race, and my hands to got cold and sweaty. I got hot all of a sudden, and grabbed a harder, tighter grip on my bags. What would happen now??? . . .
