The next few months passed like a blur for poor Pacifica Northwest.
That was fine with her. It was much better than accepting reality.
She said exactly what she was told to to the Press. That she was glad of the support of everyone. That her parents had kept her strong. That, despite her debilitating condition, she still had dreams for the future.
All lies, of course.
She discovered more about her accident. Apparently, she'd tumbled down a steep crevice, colliding with small rocks on the way down. The only reason she survived was because she'd fallen directly into a dense bush.
It was debatable whether this was good fortune or not. Right now, Pacifica was inclined to think the opposite.
She was constantly hooked up to morphine, aor simply remaining conscious would have been unbearable. The many gifts she had recieved during her recuperation had gone untouched, unwanted.
The hospital staff had thrown out so many mouldy fruit baskets, they must have filled the entire skip.
Since her arrival, she'd looked in a mirror once. That was enough for her to have another visit with Ms Syringe, as the lady with the sleep inducing needle was now known. She was becoming a frequent guest, as Pacifica lost it at least once a day...
Before capitulating to her drug induced stupor, she remembered it all.
The huge scar, running from one side of her face to the other.
The hairless head, which had been shaved and cut open so they could relieve pressure on her brain.
And her bad eye, in which she had permanently lost peripheral vision, half closed and swollen.
It wasn't a pleasant sight, put it that way.
As for her other injuries, she was told she'd make a complete recovery from her broken ribs and arms. Her left leg was fractured pretty badly, but would be usable again in time.
As for her missing limb...
She didn't even want to think about it.
She still FELT like it was there.
Even though it wasn't.
'Phantom limb' the doctors called it.
Apparently, it was a medical condition.
It was one that Pacifica was incredibly thankful for.
She wasn't able to cope with reality.
Not yet.
So when her personal physician started banging on about 'artificial legs' and 'life in a wheelchair' she tuned out.
LA LA LA
NOT LISTENING.
A physhiatrist was hired to help her cope with the trauma.
She wasn't interested in his mealy mouthed words about 'adjustment'.
She just wanted to go back to that day on the lake.
Alone.
With Dipper.
If only she had stayed close to him.
He could have protected her.
But it was too late.
And now...
Now she was a shell of who she used to be.
And the worst part of it was...
She was more her parents puppet than ever before.
They were wringing out every bit of public sympathy from this 'tragedy' as they could.
It was the biggest public mourning since the death of Princess Diana.
A young girl, with her whole future ahead of her...
Has had her life altered forever, by a cruel twist of fate...
Please feel sorry for us...
Love us...
Give us your column inches...
She had to hand it to her father...
He was playing them like a master conductor...
As soon as she was released from her ward...
She was due to get several meaningless awards...
'Child Of Courage'.
'Inspiration To The Nation'.
'A Hero For Modern Times'.
What did those titles even mean?
Nothing, that's what.
And while the people in the audience would give her a standing ovation.
And wipe their tears away with the tissues that were genorously provided by the organisers.
Feeling good about themselves, that they were there to honour a cripple.
It was all meaningless crap.
THEY didn't have to look at a grotesque reflection every morning.
THEY didn't have to fed and changed, like a helpless baby.
THEY didn't have to fear looking down, lest they see their missing...
Stop it, Pacifica.
You don't want to be reduced to a blubbering wreck again.
And we've seen MORE than enough of Ms Needle of late, thank you very much.
The one silver lining, in all this misery.
Was the letters she got from Dipper and Mabel.
She was shocked, at first, when her parents allowed them to come through.
After all, they were NORTHWESTS, and the two of them were mere peasants.
But, after thinking about it for a while...
She came to the conclusion that it didn't really matter to them.
After all, it's not like it was a face-to-face meeting.
And they needed SOMETHING to keep their cash cow's spirits up.
She could think of it as a 'reward' for helping restore the family's reputation.
Yeah, thanks Mom and Dad.
REALLY worth losing a leg over.
The letters themselves were as you'd expect.
That they hoped she was feeling better.
That they wished they could be there.
That Dipper had not stopped beating himself up since it happened.
That Mabel wanted to sign her cast with smiley faces.
But such simple sentiments kept her going on those long, awful nights.
She wished she could write back.
With her hands out of commision, though.
And unwilling to reveal her private thoughts to a third party to type them out.
She would have to wait.
She was getting stronger.
She could feel it.
Keep waiting for me, Dipper.
We'll be together.
I don't care WHAT my parents say.
And, yet...
In the evening...
During those few occasions she was able to get a wink of sleep...
The laughter returned.
A sinister giggling in her head.
It simply wouldn't go away.
She couldn't help but feel...
Something was approaching on the horizon.
Something... Nasty.