Evergreen Hartly

Evergreen was a typical girl, until the day she got into a car accident.From then on, she  could only say long words, because the part of her brain that keeps her shorter words got damaged.  Will Evergreen find a way to communicate to her friends without using long words, or will  she be stuck like this forever?

It was a normal day in July, and me and my family were driving to a water park.  I was singing along to the radio, and my brother Chase was looking at his baseball cards.  I gasped, speechless.  Behind us, a car was speeding, and coming closer.  This time, I had to save myself from being in danger, not my mom, not my dad, not Chase.

“Mom, pull over, now!” I yelled to her.  She was the one driving.

“Darling, do you need to throw up?”  Mom asked, extending her arm out, holding a paper bag.

“Mom, no! I need you to pull over! That car is coming!”  Mom looked in her mirror, but before she could see it, the car hit the back of our car, which made our car go skidding forward.  We hit into the next car and then halted to a stop, and I veered forward. The windshield had broken, and the whole back of their car had fallen off.  I was crying, and Chase was stroking my back.  I pushed him away, and my head started to ache.  I sat up, but fell back down.  That was all I remembered before everything went black.

I woke up in the emergency room.  Machines were beeping.  Tubes were stuck into my arm.  Everything seemed to be moving around, and I could not see a clear image of anything.

A doctor and a nurse walked over to my mom to tell her either good or bad news.  “Your child has a brain injury, which has affected the communication with one part of her brain.  Unfortunately, your child will be very hard to understand, because she has lost all  memory of every short word she has ever learned.  She will only talk with complex words.”

“Dear relative, am I afflicted with an illness?  If so, you may call the hospital wagon and escort me to my mattress for a pleasant nap or short rest that will put me at ease.”  I said.

“No, darling,” said mother, leaning over me. “You are already in bed.”

“What will take effect in my future of important educational results and school work?” I asked mom.

“Well, Honey Buns, you will be placed in a 1st grade class.”  My mom still calls me stupid nicknames, even though I’m 10.

“Well, mother when does this exclusive gathering of children happen to start?”  I asked.

“Tomorrow.” she said.

Then I went back to sleep.  It was a great dream that I had that night.  It was about transporting to time’s base, and the rest of it is really confusing!  I woke up the next morning in my bed at home.  My mom knocked on the door and I let her in.

“Honey, the doctors told us that we could bring you home last night, so we did.”  Mom said.

“Did the internal medicine physicians disclose the results from the test?”  I asked.

“Yes, Honey, and the results were positive!” Mom squealed.

My mom gets really excited over really little things.  I jumped and hollered like I was a monkey who had just finished two bananas.  I got out of bed and ran down stairs to get a bowl of Kellogg’s Rice Krispies and raspberries.  I ran back upstairs so that I could get my laptop to type while eating breakfast.  I love to write and tell the stories of the untold.

This time, I was writing a story about the time when the Earth was created.  It is called Starting It Up.  I have been writing it since I was five years old, and I am so interested in researching.  It’s not just to know what information to add to the story, but to know how I came to life.  Not many people know about this topic, so only about two pages of results came up when I googled it.

“Let’s go get you a new dictionary,” exclaimed Mom.

“Tell the cause, mother.”  I rolled my eyes.

“For the new class, Honey.  It starts today.” Mom told me.

We hopped into mom’s Acura and we were off to the pharmacy.  I walked down the aisles.  I saw my old friend Ruby.  She was talking with all the other popular girls.

“Greetings, and holy blessings, Ruby.”  I remarked.

They all laughed at me as I sighed and ran around the corner to hide.  I  heard the giggling stop, so I walked back around the corner but they were still there.  I began to run, and they chased me while saying, “Evergreen, the first grader, what a little little girl!  Evergreen, the first grader, what a little little girl!”  They repeatedly chanted.

Luckily, I am fast, so I reached two aisles before they saw me.   I hid behind my mother like a four-year-old.

“What’s wrong?”  Mother asked.

“Shield me from the other kids, Mother!  It’s for safety!” I hid behind my mother as she handed the food to the cashier.

When she was done we bolted out of the store.  My mom laughed at me.  She was laughing so hard, she fell over on the ground.  I picked up Mom because a car was heading toward us.

“CEASE driving the car!”  I yelled as I held up my hand to stop the car.

The car rushed to a stop.  My mom stood up, and gathered her bag and sweatshirt.  We ran back to the car and got inside.

Mom drove me to school, where I was about two feet taller than some of the first graders.

“Salutations and best wishes for the oncoming day.”  I said softly.

The teacher gave me a nervous glance and let out a small giggle.   Why was she laughing at me?  I was only a 10-year-old in a first grade class.  That’s when I realized how stupid that sounded.  I was suddenly embarrassed.

First was math where we did one-digit addition and subtraction, and I was done with the whole paper when some of the first graders had not even started the first problem.  Next was grammar and spelling.

We learned lots of stuff, this is a reenactment of what really happened today in class.

“Children, please turn to page 10 in your dictionaries.”  The teacher said.

I raised my hand.

“Yes, Evergreen?”  The teacher pointed to me.

“What does the word is mean?”  I asked, pointing to ‘is’ on page 10.

“Oh, Evergreen darling, ‘is’ means that you are doing something or one of your dear first grade friends is doing something.” the teacher said.

She was wearing a teal tunic with a tight black skirt, and her hair pulled back into a braided bun.  I would say that she was about 30 years old, and she refused to tell anyone her name, so we always called her “Teacher.”

It was finally late in the afternoon and I still had not made any friends yet.  I was walking in the hall to the front entrance, where the helping teachers would escort everyone to the buses.

I spotted a girl, and she walked over to me.  She seemed pretty friendly.

“Naomi.” She shook my hand.  “Fourth grade.” she said.

I was supposed to be in fourth grade.

“Evergreen, it is a dear love to meet you, Naomi.” I shook her hand firmly, as she had shaken mine.  “First of the grades of elementary.”  I said.

“Really?” she said, a surprised look on her face.

We slowed down so that I could tell her what had happened with me and the first grade.

“I got in a car accident, and I had brain damage which has completely ruined my use of some words.”  I sighed.

“Nice meeting you.” Naomi said, and she ran to her bus.

I ran to my bus since it was pulling out of the school lot.

When I got home, my mom was sitting at the counter reading one of those gossip magazines.  She would not show her face.  I was confused.

“How was your day, Evergreen?”  She sniffled, as if she had been crying.

“What is the need of help for your issue, Mother?”  I asked.

“Darling, I don’t know how to say this, but you are getting brain surgery.  Tomorrow.” Mom sniffled again, tears dripping down her face. I started to cry.

That night, I went to bed with my back slumped and my hands  crossed over my chest.  I knew that I had to awaken the next morning and go to the hospital.  But I had to be brave and push through.  So I went to sleep that night and dreamed that the surgery went horribly and I had died.  When I got out of bed the next morning, I ran to my mom’s room to wake her up.

She wasn’t there. I ran to the workout room, and there she was. We were ready to go.

We got in the car, and I wore a simple button down shirt so that I could easily change into a hospital gown.


When I arrived, they asked me to write down all of this weird information.  I was soon in the operation room.

“We are going to give you a medicine so that you will fall asleep and you won’t feel anything.” said one doctor.




“Good news,” the doctor stated, “The surgery is helping your brain.” “What does that information mean?”  I asked.

“You will get some memory back in your brain.” said the man.

That was all I had to hear before I knew that I was healthy again.




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