What the Heart Wants

Prologue

It's incredibly hard to be alive. I wonder if people ever consider that. Maybe it's easy for everyone else, but it certainly isn't for me. I'm sick of the medications and the therapy. It all hurts more than it helps. It's been this way since I can remember. My earliest memory is running on the playground, chasing a classmate, and suddenly being on the ground. It's been a battle to keep going ever since, and frankly I'm exhausted. Why do I have to fight against myself for a chance to live?

I think I've finally found a way out. I pop open the cap to the prescription bottle. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before. It's so simple, and mom has always been nagging me to take my meds. Shaking a handful of the pills into my hand, I take a deep breath. I gulp the pills down with some water. Shouldn't be long now.

I go to the small window of our temporary apartment. We'd rented it a while back while we were seeing a specialist. Back then, I was excited to go to California. There are so many places to see and visit. I even made a list, but we didn't have time for them between doctor visits. I was usually too tired after therapy or mom was tied up with the insurance company on the phone. So we never went, and I settled on admiring it from afar.

The view from the apartment is amazing. It overlooks a beautiful part of the city. I can always see the people rushing and moving, so busy. Too busy. Don't they know what they're missing? The abundance of purple flowers spilling out of those hanging baskets over the little bakery? The great fountain in the center of the small park across the street? These things were so close to me, and I'd never get to appreciate them. Yet, they all walk by without even blinking at it. I see a group of girls around my age walk by the bakery. They stop at the music store next to it and gush over the poster of a pop star and I wish it was me. My heart starts to speed up and I feel my chest tighten.

Finally, I won't have to crave the normalcy anymore. If my weak heart wants to fight with me, it can win. There's no point in being 15 and sickly. There's no place in the world that can make you feel comfortable or happy. The doctors will always try to soften the blow by saying you've got so much to live for. Prom? Dating? I'd love to see them try to make friends or go to school with an oxygen tank and a case containing pills. Guys love it. They even gave me an endearing nickname, Pharmacy. That's why I have to leave. Judging from books and movies, it's hard enough being this age without health problems. Adding those in either gets you pity or picked on. Take a guess at the card I drew. Facing pain I was never prepared for. Kids are never horrible to each other in the movies. They pity the sick kid and make them get well soon cards. Kids at my school don't even look my way.

I feel my body growing heavy. It's difficult to stand. I reach my hand up to grab the window sill, but I can't make it grip. I hit the ground with a thud, but it doesn't feel bad. I could barely hear it. My eyes are blurring. This is it. I can feel myself smiling a little. My eyes are no longer seeing the world in front of me, but instead a white cloud.

"Gabi!" I hear a muffled voice call. I move my mouth to answer but nothing comes out. "Gabi please!" Oh God, please no. Don't let her be the one to witness this. "Gabi!"

A few hours earlier:

"Miranda, just come out with me." Troy pleaded. He stuck his head farther inside his girlfriend's window. He sat down on her fire escape enjoying the California sun.

"T, I can't. I'm supposed to be studying." Her English accent came out with her reply.

"It's spring break!" He laughed, finally climbing inside.

"Maybe for you Mr. Division I athlete." She said and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Med school, however, never takes a break."

"Baby, you've got to leave this room. You'll fry up that brilliant mind of yours if you don't."

"Troy Bolton, I can't. I worked really hard to get this visa and grant. I'm up to my elbows in research and if I don't get this done, I'll never get to see you play."

"Mira, I'm about to be drafted. If you want to see me play, I'll order ESPN and you can watch me next month." Miranda laughed, she couldn't help it. Troy and persuasive went hand in hand. "Please, slum it for an hour or two with a dumb ol' jock and just relax." He took the textbook from her lap and brought her in for a kiss.

"Okay." She said, scooting off the bed. "What exactly do you planned?" She moved to the dresser and began pulling out clothes.

"Well, in order to properly procrastinate we need to eat, sleep, and play. In that order." He stood and took her in his arms. Miranda removed her shirt and kissed his lips sweetly.

"How about we reverse the order?" Troy smiled. He loved when she got playful. He planted his lips on hers and she giggled as they fell to the bed.

Hours later, they lay wrapped in the blankets of Miranda's bed. "Okay, so we've played and slept. What's next?" She smiled as Troy wrapped his arms around her.

"Now, we get my princess something to eat."

"Can't we just have something ordered?" Miranda groaned, she was far too relax to move.

"Babe, the point was to leave the room." Troy laughed as he pulled on his clothes.

"I've taken a long enough break. We should just order something and eat in." He leaned down to kiss her lip.

"Babe, I came here to take you out. We've got so much to celebrate. We're about to be living the dream!" Miranda giggled at his enthusiasm and got dressed.

They headed out to Troy's pickup and got in. With buckled seat belts, they pulled into traffic. "Thank you for bringing me out. I really did need this." Miranda smiled and let the window down to feel the afternoon breeze.

"I know. You work so hard. I want you to reward yourself sometimes, but if you don't I will." They shared a quick kiss.

"I love you, you know that, right?"

"Of course I do. Don't know why, but I'm not complaining, and I'm definitely not gonna try and change your mind." She laughed hard and leaned into him. "I love you too." Miranda gave his arm a squeeze and sat back in silence looking out of the window.

Everything was perfect. She was in the most perfect relationship and climbing her way through med school. Troy was a top prospect to be drafted into the NBA, it couldn't get any better. Their lives were firmly in place and going nowhere but up.

She turned and looked at him. As if he could feel her staring, he met her gaze. He smiled wide and laughed. As soon as his smile came, it was gone. His expression changed rapidly to one of horror. Miranda whirled her head around to see what he was looking at and was met with the headlights of an 18-wheeler. She felt Troy's arms around her as he pulled her close, and that was it.

The constant beeping of hospital machines was a sound I'd grown accustomed to. I know where I am the minute I hear it. I try to move, but my arm is weighed down by the IV medicine I'm apparently getting. The rest of my body feels far too heavy to move. My chest is numb, but maybe that's because of the pills. I lay still, staring up at the white ceiling. My eyes drift over to the walls, and I can tell by the way everything is so pristine and bright that I'm in the Intensive Care Unit.

Had the entire thing been a dream? Had I not actually done that? There's movement from the far corner of the room. I turn my head and see my mom shifting in her chair. She flips the pages of a magazine and glances up at me. She does a double take before flinging the book into her seat and rushing over to me. "Gabi, baby are you okay?"

I open my mouth to speak, but my throat is scratchy and dry. Mom hands me a cup of water as I cough. "I'm okay." Finally, I answer her.

"Honey, what happened?" Her hand grips mine. I don't answer, I'm not sure if she means what I did or in general. "Why would you..."

"I'm sorry." I never meant for her to be the one to find me. I suppose, if I'd given it any real thought, I'd have realized she's the only person that would actually come in the apartment. "What happened?"

I watch as she pulls the chair over to the bed and sits. Her hands grip mine again. "You were passed out. I called your name but you wouldn't respond. I went for the phone and saw your empty bottle. I dialed and threw some water on you. You came to long enough for me to get you to throw up." So that's why my throat hurts. My hand goes to my neck. I can't even look at her. "Baby, why would you do something like this?"

"It..." I'm fully prepared to lie. I don't want her upset. "I'm sorry mom. I didn't want you to find me like that."

"You really meant to do that? Hurt yourself?" We both knew it was more than just hurting myself. "I thought we discussed this, talking about things that make you upset."

"It wasn't the kind of pain you could take away by talking." I look down at myself. The pale hospital gown, the wristbands. "I'm sorry that you had to see that. But mom, it's going to happen at some point. I've spent two thirds of my life in places like this. Clinics, rehabs, hospitals, it never ends. Never gets better." I pull on the gown and it falls down a little. My eyes widen. There's a bandage on my chest, directly over my heart. Had the damage really been that bad?

"Sweetie, I was coming home to tell you some very important news. Doctor Porter called, they found a heart for you." I sit up, and immediately regret it. My body isn't ready for me to do anything yet. Mom smoothes the hair around my face. My light brown eyes look right into hers.

"A heart?"

"Yes." Mom smiles. "The ambulance came and took you in right away. They got you stabilized and did the transplant."

"How long have I been out?" My voice rasps. Mom hands me the water again.

"About four days. Your body has been through a lot of trauma."

"Where did the heart come from?"

"Honey, that's not important. What you need to do now is focus on getting stronger. They'll be a lot of people coming in to speak with you now that you're awake. Just let me know if it gets overwhelming and we'll take a break." She stands and kisses me . "I'm going to go let the nurse know."

Mom leaves me with my thoughts. A heart transplant. I get to start over, despite what I tried to do. That has to mean something. Part of me is excited, but reality sets in quick. Another person is dead. I don't know the cause, but it makes me feel horrible about what I tried to do. I got lucky and they lost their life. How can anyone be excited about that?

A few days later, mom let me go to the physical therapy gym at the hospital alone. She'd been so scared, but I felt fine. I didn't feel tired or sleepy. I didn't get winded. I walked slowly in and took a deep breath. "Gabriella, nice to see you walking." The physical therapist greets.

"Yeah," I smile. "Mom finally let me out alone."

"That's good. Why don't you warm up with a couple laps around the room." I nod and start walking. It's amazing to see everyone working so hard to get back to normal. They gym has yellow walls, which are supposed to inspire us to look to the bright side. The floor is tiled black, with exercise mats under the equipment. I glance in the mirrors that line the far wall of the gym as I pass them. I can see the change in myself already. The dark circles that normally rest under my eyes are fading, and my tan skin actually looks tan rather than pasty. I allow myself to smile. I think even my hair has a little more shine. For once, my reflection doesn't look sickly and fragile.

"Dammit!" I hear a man yell. In the mirror, I can see a guy has lost his balance and fallen. I turn and rush over to help him. I grab his arm but he snatches it away. "I'm fine." He barks.

I don't say anything at first. He pulls his wheelchair over and tries to get in. I reach up and put the brakes in a lock position for him. "It gets easier." I was in his position not too long ago. His eyes look up at me. They're a piercing color blue, almost clear. His face is twisted up into a frown.

"I know how therapy works." He grunts after getting seated back into his chair. I look down at the air-cast he has around his ankle and the brace on his knee.

"Troy, please don't try to walk alone." Another therapist comes over to us. Troy rolls his eyes. He mumbles words I can't make out before moving maneuvering the chair away. "Poor guy has had it rough." I turn to the her. "He was a top prospect for the NBA, now he can barely walk, and will probably never play again. At least not the same. Car accident wasn't even his fault." Frowning, I look back over to him. He's positioned himself in front of the mirror wall with his head in his hands. He's gripping his dark, shaggy hair. Instantly, I feel sorry for him.

My therapist came over and got me started on the workout. I complete it a little faster than I did earlier in the week. After, I get back to my room on the step-down unit. I go inside and close the door, thankful to have that luxury now that I'm doing better. I sit on the bed and look up to the television.

"Hi." A girl stands in the corner of my room, watching me.

"Uh, hey." I say, not really sure what else to do. "Lost?"

"I think so." Her voice quivers, but the English accent of hers is hard to miss.

"Who're you looking for? It's a pretty big floor, so you probably mixed up the room numbers."

"No, not lost like that." She says, smoothing the skirt of her tan floral dress. "I mean, I don't know where I am."

"Oh," Okay, now I'm a little worried. Maybe she wandered down from the psyche ward. "Why don't I call the nurse and she can help you get back to your room?" I don't wait for her to answer before pressing the call button.

"I don't even remember coming here." She runs a hand through her dirty blonde hair. "I was on my way to lunch...and then it's all blank." Definitely psyche patient.

"It's fine..." I stand and open the door. "what was your name?"

"Miranda. My name is Miranda."

"What can I help you with?" The nurse comes in, pitcher in hand, ready to refill my water.

"This girl is lost. She can't remember where she's trying to go."

The nurse looks at me for a moment. "What girl?"

"Her." I point to Miranda. She smiles bashfully. "She's lost."

"Gabriella, are you feeling okay?" My nurse asks and moves closer to my face.

"Yeah, I came back from PT and she was standing there." I turn to Miranda.

"I'm sorry for causing trouble. I just honestly need to know how to get to the main floor, and I'll go straight home." Her voice is soft, but still audible. The nurse doesn't blink.

"You can't see her?" I ask. What the heck is happening?

"Honey, maybe you should relax. Did you push yourself too hard in the gym?" She shuffles me to the bed. Miranda's eyes dart from me to the nurse.

"She can't see me?" I shake my head no, answering both Miranda and my nurse. "She can't hear me!" She yells, and I flinch. "Look at me! I'm right here! You dumb broad, look at me! I'm a person too dammit!" Her accent is in full effect. Miranda pants, visibly winded and upset. But the nurse just keeps tucking me in. She pours me a glass of water. "What's happened to me?" She whispers to herself as she slumps to the ground.

"I'll go see if any medication is due. In the mean time, you should think about packing your stuff up. Word on the street is, you're going back home soon."

"I am?" I'd forgotten that California wasn't really my home.

"Yep! The orders have been put in to have you discharged and set up your care back in your hometown. I bet you can't wait to see all your friends." I don't comment. It's hard not to focus on the broken girl in the corner of my hospital room. The nurse leaves, and I hop out of bed.

"Miranda?" She looks up at me sadly. I reach out my hand, and she takes it. I see her grip me, but I don't feel it. "What..."

"I think..." She takes a deep breath. "I think I'm..."

My eyes widen when I realize what she's about to say. "You can't be! I'm staring right at you!"

"No one else can see or hear me! Even when I'm touching you, it's like I'm not." She sobs and stands. Miranda walks over to the wall, takes a breath and walks into it. But she disappears to the other side. Her head pops back into the room. Her mouth is wide open, and I can see the tear that has formed in the corner of her eye.

"I must be dreaming." I breath. There's no other explanation for this.

"What happened to you?" Miranda comes back into the room. She places her hand over the bandage on my chest.

"I..." No, it couldn't be. Things like this don't really happen. "My heart..." I can't finish the sentence. But I don't have to. A moment later, Miranda's deep brown eyes look into mine. Her mouth settles into a small frown.

"You have my heart."

Author's Note: I hope you all like it! I'll try to update soon. I have a few chapters written, but I don't want to post them all and fall behind. Comments, Suggestions, Questions? Leave them in a review! Or you know, PM me or find me on tumblr!