After forty-eight hours being monitored in the hospital, I was finally discharged.
I could go home.
Although I would still need around two weeks to completely recover from the head wound.
After two days in the hospital, with my family practically living there, it almost felt strange to leave. Even the boys had taken a day off from school. Mom had even let Axl miss an important test, saying she would talk to his teacher later.
On the second day, my parents had called their bosses to explain the situation and apologize for missing work, saying it was a family emergency. Mom even had to bring a doctor's note because her boss didn't believe her at first.
Anyway, now I was being carried home by Dad despite the doctor clearing me to walk.
If even Dad was fussing over me like this, I knew Mom would be even worse.
I was right.
The moment we got home, my parents began monitoring me nonstop. Mom checked on me every five minutes, and Dad every twenty. He even made me sit beside him while he watched the Colts game so he could keep an eye on me without missing it.
I knew they were worried.
But after two days in a hospital room with them constantly hovering over me, and my brothers' loud company, I needed some time alone to think about what I was going to do with my life now.
So I asked if I could go to my bedroom.
Mom slapped Dad's shoulder to get his attention as he focused on the TV.
"She wants to go to her bedroom," Mom said. "Take your eyes off the TV for a second and help your injured daughter."
Dad began to stand up, but I quickly stopped him.
"I can go by myself," I said. "I don't need Dad to carry me everywhere. I'm not a little kid. And remember, the doctor said I should be lightly exercising. I'm not supposed to stay completely still."
Slowly, I walked down the hallway until I reached my bedroom.
Just before I stepped inside, Mom called out.
"Sweetie, just keep your door open, okay? Don't close it."
Her voice carried a hint of lingering fear.
She was probably still traumatized by the thought that she might have found her daughter dead.
It would take some time before she truly believed that wasn't going to happen.
I knew they were acting differently because they were worried, and honestly, I appreciated their concern.
Frankie and Mike Heck often admittedthat they were lazy parents.
But they were actually incredibly loving.
I stepped into the room.
The same room where I had woken up.
The room that had belonged to the old Sue.
I looked around slowly.
But this wasn't me anymore.
I wasn't the same person who had lived here before.
Both lives had shaped me, but this room didn't reflect who I was now. It belonged to a version of Sue who no longer existed, and it definitely didn't reflect who I had been in my previous life either.
In this new life, I didn't want to pretend anymore.
Not even for a second.
If I wanted to live authentically this time, the first place to start was here.
This room.
And my clothes.
Because the outfits Sue wore in the show were… honestly a little too childish for me.
I began with the walls.
Slowly, I started taking down the motivational posters one by one.
Fortunately, she hadn't yet had time to punch a gigantic hole in the wall like in the show.
The posters went straight into the trash.
But I kept the family photos.
Those stayed.
Then I walked over to the wardrobe.
This would probably be the hardest part.
I opened the door carefully, already bracing myself for what I might find inside.
Hopefully…
There were at least a few things worth saving.
I pushed the door open the rest of the way.
For a moment, I just stared.
Color.
So much color.
Bright sweaters. Loud patterns. Skirts that looked like they belonged to a middle school motivational speaker. Cardigans in shades that should probably never be worn together.
I sighed.
Yep.
This was definitely Sue Heck's wardrobe.
Carefully, I reached in and pulled out the first hanger.
A bright yellow sweater with little embroidered flowers on the sleeves.
No.
Straight to the "no" pile.
Next.
A red cardigan with blue polka dots.
Absolutely not.
Next.
A skirt with what looked suspiciously like glitter.
I blinked.
"Why…?" I murmured quietly.
I continued slowly, sorting through the clothes piece by piece. Some things went into a small pile on the bed. Most of them went straight into a growing mountain on the floor.
But every now and then, I found something that could work.
A simple pair of jeans.
A neutral sweater.
A plain jacket.
Those I kept.
Halfway through the wardrobe, I sat down on the bed, slightly out of breath. The head wound was still reminding me not to push too hard.
I glanced at the piles around the room.
One pile of clothes worth keeping.
Three piles of… questionable fashion decisions.
I rubbed my temple carefully.
"Well," I muttered, "this might take longer than I thought."
From the hallway, I could hear the faint sound of the TV and my parents talking quietly. And Axl complaining about something, as usual.
Mom came to check on me, thinking she was being sneaky. But the moment she saw the scene of my entire wardrobe spread across the floor, she froze in the doorway, completely forgetting about hiding.
Her eyes widened.
She opened her mouth, clearly ready to shout.
Then she stopped herself, probably remembering that I was still injured.
I reacted quickly before she could lose control.
"I need to buy new clothes," I blurted out before I could stop myself.
She let out a long breath, clearly trying to control herself.
"Sue… we don't have that kind of money right now. Especially now," she said carefully.
I could practically see the vein in her forehead threatening to start pulsing.
"I know," I said quickly. "And I'm sorry. I know hospitals are expensive. But I'm not asking for money."
That stopped her.
She looked at me, confused.
Then she walked into the room and carefully sat on the only empty space available—my bed.
I moved closer and leaned gently against her.
"Oh Sue," she said softly. "You never need to apologize for something like this. Your father and I would never blame you. We would do it again no matter the cost."
She wrapped an arm around me.
"All our children's lives are priceless," she continued. "Honestly, this was the best deal we ever got. Only one thousand five hundred dollars for my daughter? What a bargain!"
I let out a small laugh at her joke, even as tears threatened to appear.
The weight in my chest felt a little lighter.
But my determination didn't fade.
I still needed to help them.
"Look," Mom continued, patting my shoulder. "If you really want, once we finally manage to pay this bill, we can buy you a new dress."
"Mom," I said gently. "I was serious when I said I don't want the money."
She frowned slightly.
"I was thinking about doing a garage sale," I explained. "Selling things I don't want anymore so I can change my wardrobe and buy a few new things myself."
She looked around the room again, taking in the piles of clothes.
"That explains… this," she muttered.
I nodded.
"This accident made me realize something," I continued quietly. "I wasn't really happy with myself before."
Mom listened carefully.
"If I had actually died…" I swallowed. "I would have had a million regrets."
Her arm tightened slightly around my shoulders.
"So I want to try becoming a new Sue," I said.
"A Sue who actually tries to find herself instead of constantly trying to please everyone else."
Mom blinked in surprise.
"I think I was always trying too hard to be noticed," I continued. "All the clubs. All the tests. Training for everything."
I looked down at my hands.
"Even this accident happened because I was practicing for the artistic gymnastics test."
Mom's expression softened.
"I think I want to stop doing all those tests," I admitted. "I want to find something for myself."
Her eyebrows rose slightly. Her mouth dropped open in shock.
"You want to give up the club tests?" she asked.
Then she suddenly leaned forward and touched my forehead.
"Are you actually feeling alright? Do we need to go back to the hospital?"
She was already standing up, ready to march out the door, when I grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her back onto the bed.
"Mom," I said softly. "Even if it's hard to believe… I think I'm feeling better than I've ever felt before. I don't have to be in a team or be popular so I can define me. I just want to find the best version of myself."
It was the most honest explanation I could give.
Some truths obviously had to remain hidden.
But it was true.
I had never been this honest with anyone else before.
Even after everything that had happened, this was truly the best I had ever felt in both of my lives.
Because this time, I was determined to change for myself.
For once, I didn't care who might judge me.
I wanted to stand tall and free.
I no longer wanted to change myself just to become "normal" or fit in or "invisible".
I wanted to change because I wanted to become someone who could actually love herself.
Someone who was honest with herself.
Someone who is not scared to shout to the world what she thinks.
Mom looked around the messy room again.
The piles of clothes.
The empty wall.
Finally, she smiled.
"Well," she said slowly, "I guess almost dying does make you rethink some things."
Then she nudged one of the giant clothing piles with her foot.
"But maybe next time we start with a slightly smaller life change."
She looked around the room again.
"We'll need a lot of help to organize a garage sale," she added. "I'll call the boys to help. We can do it this weekend."
She looked at me.
"So… two days?"
I laughed quietly.
And for the first time in both of my lives…
Changing things didn't feel scary.
It felt possible.