Short Story

So much pain, so much blood. Everything was fuzzy, people looked like splotches blocking my vision. The yelling. It’s getting louder. I look for light, but only darkness is here now. There. Under the door. I try my hardest to lift the fallen door, but a shooting pain propels up my leg so I stop. “

I kept my eyes closed shut on the way in. I held my breath as If I were going diving, but I wasn’t sure what I was doing. I knew I had to stay still or else, so I peeked and I saw the red light. It was beaming down on my chest, as I lay there, hopeless as the bed shifted side to side. The only thing that came to mind was the panic button, a grey clicker with a large red button. Yet, all I could think of is if I pressed it, I would have to start all over.

it is life, Mama!” Mama: “Oh—so now its life. Money is life. Once upon a

In Emergency Medical Technician school, you learn that when a patient is in critical condition they will feel an impending sense of doom before there body goes into complete shock. After this drastic change in behavior I sensed that his condition was about to get much worse. As he began to scream his evergreen eyes found mine. Our eyes were locked, and that’s when I watched them disappear like a sunset into the back of his head. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if it was my eyes that were the last thing he saw on Earth. Then he seized. All I remember thinking was that I had to get out of the

Gasps, murmurs from the crowd, breaks my panic. Then medics plough through the crowd and with precision put Allie on oxygen and wheel his motionless body away. It feels as though walls are closing in on me, as I try to block out the vicious stares of all the phonies in the crowd. As the ambulance disappears I feel Allie is going far away from me just like those red leaves, falling from the trees sway gently in the autumn wind. My mother and my father, later, walks towards me filled with panic and turns to me, demanding an answer to a question I haven’t heard over the din in my ears.

Sitting in the waiting room at the doctor’s office, 7-year-old me swung my feet back and forth under the generic, time-worn furniture and anxiously wrung my sweaty palms. I’d been to the doctor’s before, but with each returning yearly visit the dread that sunk to the bottom of my gut never shrunk. “Jillianne Carrasco?” The nurse called. My stomach turned. I began to shoot my mother a pleading look, but she wasted no time in grabbing my hand and leading me to the smiling nurse waiting at the door, and we both followed her through the pasty white halls to a customary exam room. The nurse closed the door behind us and asked me to take a seat on the crinkly tissue paper cot. She smiled warmly, likely taking note of my nervous breathing and shaky hands.

Ana Rodríguez Rebecca Balcarcel Creative Writing 2307 April 16, 2018 I felt scared and nervous as we arrived at the hospital, I felt as if I had a hole in my stomach and everything seemed to be spinning. A nurse quickly took me to the back to check my temperature and blood pressure. “How much pain do you have on a scale of one to ten?” “It’s at a 10!”

“Eric Rodriguez? Doctor Gray is ready to see you,” a petite woman shouted. The assistant was dressed in fresh Tory Burch flats, so new her rubber soles were tracing black skids, leaving residue on the freshly polished floors of the doctor’s linoleum. All black scrubs, buttons popping at the seams, her effortless grin wrinkled her cheeks and forehead in excitement. She lead me down a dark hallway lit from the dim opening of a white room at the end of the hall. The door clanked and hinged until it was overhead, sending echoes throughout the office. The pungent smell of disinfectant and rubber gloves grew prominent immediately after the door latched. I smiled. Carefully scurrying through the door, I reached the step on the bed. Lying rather uncomfortably on the examination table while shielding my eyes from the tremendous glare that reflected off the fluorescent lights, I fidgeted nervously, my hand tremor heightened by my level of anxiety, desperately trying to ignore the gloominess of the situation. My heart beat a little faster as I sat there for a moment and took the whole scene in. I attempted to stay focused on staying warm in the

“She’s in pain!” Lizabeth shouted, when her mother winced after trying to sit up. “Can’t you see that? Do something! Get the doctor!” she snapped at the attending nurse in Room #152 at Outer Drive Hospital.

As I began, pressure was tightening against my lungs and I gasped for each breath. My heart was no longer in my chest, but rather in my eardrums pounding in staccato beats. My legs heaved and pulled against my

I felt a sharp pain my my arms. It was clearly two fingers pinching me. Shooting up in surprise, I automatically recoil to the person in front of me. My eyes opened to a stranger and a room I have never seen before.

After tying off the gown, I peered over at my mother who wore a smile. It was blatantly obvious to me that she was eyeing my sickly body, of which was at best thirty pounds underweight. It must be just as hard on her, I thought. I layed on the table as instructed; the doctor started to talk to

Confused, shocked and fear filled my mind as I lye on my side, gasping for air, trying desperately to stagger onto my knees. A sharp pain suddenly ran up my spine into my forehead and quickly I collapsed back onto the cold damp floor inside this mangled metal coffin in which I was trapped in. Bit by bit I moved my hand closer to my forehead, trying to impede this massive throbbing that was affecting my head. I skimmed my forehead and paused my hand on a huge gash. The pain shot into my head again, but I was able to clutch on to the seat and hold my balance. There was blood pouring down the side

I turned my head and stared at a bigger screen. Outside the house, windows were shattered; some houses collapsed, burying dead bodies and injured innocent people. Even so, the sound of ambulances or doctors saving lives couldn’t be

I felt a rush, an intense warm and tingling sensation in my leg. I let out an agonizing shriek. I collapsed to the hardwood, fetal position, the guest choreographer came to my aid as my coach stood there and observed. I was incoherent and was confused as my brain was trying to make sense of what had just happened. People encircled me frantically, asking questions that I was struggling to form