Personal Narrative Essay : A Short Story

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Hurtling down her home street at 80km/h; she grinned to herself as she whipped past the rows of gloomy suburban housing. This was the only source of fun for someone like her, a side of her that she kept from her parents. Diana zoomed past the end corner of her street barely letting off of the pedal. ÁROOO’! The sudden bark from a large greyhound woken up from the roar of a motorcycle caused a flinch from Diana and she lost control of the bike. A sudden pain in her legs like a million white-hot needles plagued her, but it was the sudden knock to her head that put her down.
I’d always known that this job would have its fair share of stress, but this was just too much. Already 4 children have passed away this week and now I have a fourth to look after. Knowing my luck, she will be gone by Sunday as well. ‘No’, I scolded myself internally. ‘You are the best doctor here. If anyone can save this girl it’s you!’. But, how can I actively help someone in a coma? The hit to her head was dead-on, and I’ve known people to never wake up from an injury way less severe than this. Still, I guess the show must go on.
I rarely even enter hospitals anymore. I don’t care for the bone-chilling air conditioning, the shocking injuries around every corner nor the condescending doctors. But that was beside the point right now, my little angel had been in an accident and I was her only relative in town to answer the hospital’s call. I walked briskly up the spotless white stairs to floor 4. 4F. 4F.
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