Recently I was assigned to do a short story homework at school [spoiler = see here]Patient #66
?Help! We need more needles! His adrenaline cancelled out the last tranq,? Dr. Shwarts yelled holding a tranquilizer gun.
?NO! Stop! Too much tranquilizer could kill him! He?s still my husband you know,? Mrs. Ramirez sobbed.
I awoke with strong feeling of depression and loss. I remembered the nightmare of the sleeping needles and got a jolt of pain down my spine. It was like my nerves remembered the pain. I don?t even understand how I got where I am. A white room, completely empty and blank except for a few scratches around the corners of the walls. It reminds me of June, 5, 1996 when my daughter died of an asthma attack. I was there to watch her gasp for her last breath in the white hospital room, filled with idiotic doctors and sterile medical equipment at Buzzy?s Childrens? Hospital.
As I watched her struggle to breathe I began to cry. She was only 6 and already was gasping for air, and life. There must have been a mistake when she was created. I never understood how anything as precious and innocent as she was could be born with such a terrible breathing disorder. I wanted to fix that mistake for her, I wanted her to be perfect, but I couldn?t. These attacks kept on happening. They?re horrific cuts on an otherwise perfect picture. One picture that would have won a Nobel Prize, WOULD have anyway.
?Wake up Mr. Ramirez, wake up and get up before we put you down again.? Dr. Shwarts muttered. ?You have a visitor. She appears to be very concerned about you.?
?I have no idea who you are!? Said Mr. Ramirez. ?Let me out of these restraints or I swear I will sue you!? ?I am sorry to inform you that we are not permitted to let you out of your restraints at this time. We can however, allow your wife to have a supervised visit with you, if you permit.?
?Let me see my wife! Please let me see her.?
I will never forget the feeling that surged through my body when I saw my wife for the first time after being tranquillized. My wife and I spoke for a while about my deteriorating health. After we both shed tears, she brought up the subject of Sharron. There was a long and awkward silence that passed between us. Just hearing her name escape from my wife?s mouth sent numbing chills through my body. I remember everything so vividly that it scares me.
When the doctors left I was completely alone with my daughter. I saw only her faults and none of her gems. The biggest fault was her health?I lost it. What I did to her was quick and painless, but hurt me the most. My wife left the room calmly, I would never see her again.
PATIENT 66! Your visit is done. Go back to sleep.
[/spoiler]
But I think that we all should be able to write an interesting story once in a while. Let's have a go at it.
?Help! We need more needles! His adrenaline cancelled out the last tranq,? Dr. Shwarts yelled holding a tranquilizer gun.
?NO! Stop! Too much tranquilizer could kill him! He?s still my husband you know,? Mrs. Ramirez sobbed.
I awoke with strong feeling of depression and loss. I remembered the nightmare of the sleeping needles and got a jolt of pain down my spine. It was like my nerves remembered the pain. I don?t even understand how I got where I am. A white room, completely empty and blank except for a few scratches around the corners of the walls. It reminds me of June, 5, 1996 when my daughter died of an asthma attack. I was there to watch her gasp for her last breath in the white hospital room, filled with idiotic doctors and sterile medical equipment at Buzzy?s Childrens? Hospital.
As I watched her struggle to breathe I began to cry. She was only 6 and already was gasping for air, and life. There must have been a mistake when she was created. I never understood how anything as precious and innocent as she was could be born with such a terrible breathing disorder. I wanted to fix that mistake for her, I wanted her to be perfect, but I couldn?t. These attacks kept on happening. They?re horrific cuts on an otherwise perfect picture. One picture that would have won a Nobel Prize, WOULD have anyway.
?Wake up Mr. Ramirez, wake up and get up before we put you down again.? Dr. Shwarts muttered. ?You have a visitor. She appears to be very concerned about you.?
?I have no idea who you are!? Said Mr. Ramirez. ?Let me out of these restraints or I swear I will sue you!? ?I am sorry to inform you that we are not permitted to let you out of your restraints at this time. We can however, allow your wife to have a supervised visit with you, if you permit.?
?Let me see my wife! Please let me see her.?
I will never forget the feeling that surged through my body when I saw my wife for the first time after being tranquillized. My wife and I spoke for a while about my deteriorating health. After we both shed tears, she brought up the subject of Sharron. There was a long and awkward silence that passed between us. Just hearing her name escape from my wife?s mouth sent numbing chills through my body. I remember everything so vividly that it scares me.
When the doctors left I was completely alone with my daughter. I saw only her faults and none of her gems. The biggest fault was her health?I lost it. What I did to her was quick and painless, but hurt me the most. My wife left the room calmly, I would never see her again.
PATIENT 66! Your visit is done. Go back to sleep.
[/spoiler]
But I think that we all should be able to write an interesting story once in a while. Let's have a go at it.