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Personal Narrative Fiction

Decent Essays

Conrad heard the panic in Claire’s voice. “No, he’s not going alone. He’s just going over the details of a mission that we have lined up for after you get out of here.” That made more sense to Claire. “Oh, okay.” Her muscles twitched with anticipation. It had been too long since she had hunted something and she couldn’t wait. After all, she was a born predator and lounging around in a hospital bed wasn’t on her to do list. “So, how are summer classes going?” Claire was envious that Conrad could take whatever classes he wanted online.g Conrad balanced the chair back on two legs and put his arms behind his head. “Not too bad. I’m almost done for a couple of weeks. Boy you sure do have it easy. I wish that I was still in high school.” …show more content…

She refused to think about those memories because they gave her the most gut wrenching headaches. So, she pushed them to the deepest, darkest corners of her mind, and tried to forget about them. The flashes made sleep a fleeting hope. Apart from the unpleasant memories, nurses were always coming into her room to violate her arms with blood pressure cuffs. Apparently, checking vitals were an important part of healing that Claire just didn’t understand. Plus, it seemed that her room was located directly in the middle of Antarctica. In the morning, Claire spied a mirror from her bed and asked one of the nurses to hand it to her. With the piece of reflective glass, she caught a glimpse of her own reflection. She hadn’t seen herself in so long. Her dark auburn locks were plastered to her abnormally pasty skin. The green of her eyes was barely visible because they were sunken back in her sockets. She looked like a hot …show more content…

And a nameless lady brought in trays of piled with food that tasted surprisingly good for hospital food. Dr. Thomasson stopped by to inform Claire that a physical therapist would be stopping by later. The hours passed by in a rush of hospital personnel. She just lay in bed for what seemed like forever for the therapist. Her entire body shook with excitement at the thought of being allowed to walk around. So, she cracked open one of the books that Conrad had dropped off. She just couldn’t shake the memory that had been on replay in her mind every time she closed her eyes. She tried her best to put it out of her mind, but all her effort was futile. She finally gave up on reading and threw the book down beside her on the bed. She tried to focus all her energy on working out the one memory that haunted her. But, it was useless to draw out the man's nightmarish face. Something about the eyes made him impossible to capture with a pen and paper. Those eyes kept haunting her. Sometime after the lunch tray arrived, the physical therapist stopped by. Mr. Humphreys was a short, balding man in his mid-fifties and in no time at all became Claire’s favorite

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