My head is spinning. My stomach is twisted in knots with a mixture of emotions: anxiety, excitement, worry, hope, terror, longing and love. Love I did not know I could feel. The day has finally arrived. Patience is not one of my attributes but I have been patient, more than you can imagine. Anticipation overwhelms me. Ages I have been waiting and to think I am only moments away… The room is at the end of the long silent corridor, with each second that passes I am closer, closer to your fate and my fate. But, I do not want to get closer. I want to run but there is no chance. I want you desperately but not this way. I am petrified as the double doors loom ahead of me. Tears streak my face glistening in the dull light. I wipe them away. I have to be strong. You are the answer that’ll make everything perfect. There was a way out. I didn’t follow it. I thought they were wrong, I thought it was not true. I hoped they are wrong, I hope it is not true. I still don’t know though. The double doors tower above me, as I get closer, they are calling my name softly, embracing me silently. Entering the room I feel an icy chill down my spine and goose bumps on my arm, I can’t help but imagine death calling me, soul hungry. The room is large and immaculate. People surround me but still I feel isolated. I am isolated. I have no one. Yet. I am reminded of the procedures I will undergo but I cannot comprehend the words spoken. Trembling I open my mouth to speak but no sound is uttered. A piece of cloth covers my view and I feel an awkward sensation on my abdomen. Minutes pass away with only the clicking of metal equipments filling the silence and the odd footstep. A knife pierces my skin causing pain beyond b... ... middle of paper ... ...h while I try to comfort you. A velvet blanket has disguised the truth. I tell you that any minute the pain will stop that if you let me hold you close in my arms everything will disappear. I wake up each day hoping for a miracle. My eyes are never dry, my heart is numb it has no feeling. I need you to rescue me from the dark place I have fallen in. The smell of toast wafts up through the slightly ajar door making me nauseous. The empty sensation I had before I met you has gone you have filled my hunger. The desire and fixation I felt for Jamie vanished the moment I saw you and reality struck me hard. I can only apologise for my vindictive actions full of envy that have caused you, Jamie and Stacey so much pain but I know words will never be enough. The only way to show I am truly remorseful would be to wind time back but that can never happen.
Apprehension and curiosity enveloped me as I walked down Keeter hill to my new home for the year, Memorial Room 201. As I attempted to navigate the unfamiliar hallways filled with unfamiliar scents and faces, one thought consumed my brain, “When can I escape and go back home?” Unlocking the door to my new home, I stepped inside, instantly dropping my luggage in shock. The room seemed equal in size to a parking space. I had yet to figure out how I would share a room this size with another person, who I had yet to meet.
Upon entering the dimly lit space you are immediately met with a wall of damp air that captures your attention and heightens your senses. This overwhelming feeling of mystery and intrigue takes over. Moving further into the room your eyes are drawn to a white screen. As you grow nearer, movement of shadowed figures appears, but when rounding the corner, on the other side, eerily there is no figure, just the lonely furniture
As a child the sight of an ambulance would send shivers down my spine, the flashing lights and loud horn, the panic as cars comes to a stop, and the terrifying events that followed. Being a witness to such commotion never seemed as horrendous until I became the person inside the ambulance. After experiencing headaches, sore throat, shortness of breath, and the lack of ability to move my left arm my parents sent out a distressed call to the paramedics who then rushed me into the E.R. Within the hour I was no longer on a gurney, but instead was on a hospital bed, tangled in color-coded wires to keep me alive. Hours passed, possibly even days, when I opened my eyes, only to find the words “ Sabrina’s room” on a dashboard in big pink letters. Injected into my left arm was an IV tube that dispensed antibiotic fluids into my suffering body. As I turned my head to look into the mirror I saw that my hair was shaved and a scar remained with staples over it, forming into the shape of an arc.
I unwilllingly walked through the entrance of regret and guilt. With teary eyes from what happened the night before, I didn’t know what I could say. All I thought was ‘It was an accident’ but that didn’t matter anymore.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps and voices pacing back and forth. From what I could establish I was in an industrialized room, which consisted only of a small bed and bathroom. I moved my eyes down and found myself wrapped in blankets. I yanked the blanket off only to discover bandages covering my arms and legs. Where am I? I asked myself. I began to hear keys rattling I shifted my head towards the steel door, as it suddenly opened. A broad, muscular man dressed in a navy officer uniform abruptly said “You’re Ralph, yes?” I instantly felt a strange sense of security hearing a mature voice.
“Oh my god!” He laid me down on the ground. After that I could only hear faint shouts and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. My head was swimming like crazy and it seemed all my senses were failing. “Bring the bandages and the first aid kit!”, I heard a distant call. But even through my lack of vision I could see that the call came from a distance of no more than 2 feet of my face. “Keep your eyes open”, “it’s just a little cut” I heard. A sting and a splash indicated the washing of my hand to clean the blood. Then a pang of pain and the soft dab of cotton. My finger tightened as a I felt cloth being tied around it. As I lifted my hand to try and look at the damage, all I could see was fabric that seemed almost dyed in crimson. This was quickly replaced by a new bandage and by now the bleeding had fortunately
At last I arrived, unmolested except for the rain, at the hefty decaying doors of the church. I pushed the door and it obediently opened, then I slid inside closing it surreptitiously behind me. No point in alerting others to my presence. As I turned my shoulder, my gaze was held by the magnificence of the architecture. It never fails to move me. My eyes begin by looking at the ceiling, and then they roam from side to side and finally along the walls drinking in the beauty of the stained glass windows which glowed in the candle light, finally coming to rest on the altar. I slipped into the nearest pew with the intention of saying a few prayers when I noticed him. His eyes were fixated upon me. I stared at the floor, but it was too late, because I was already aware that he wasn’t one of the priests, his clothes were all wrong and his face! It seemed lifeless. I felt so heavy. My eyes didn’t want to obey me. Neither did my legs. Too late I realised the danger! Mesmerised, I fell asleep.
I notice something out of place at the end of the hallway. The light bulb was on. I can’t imagine why. The room has been empty for the entirety of my career. My curiosity burns bright as I peer closer at the door. I can’t help but feel drawn to it. I notice a sign underneath the light. ‘Patient 71. High Concern’. Surely I would’ve been notified of this patient. The lights flicker as I am eclipsed in maddening silence. I peer through the slit in the door, to be greeted by a young man sitting stiffly on the edge of his mattress, staring directly at me. I jump back in horror. How could he know I was there? I breathe heavily, feeling my heart beat through my ears.
I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I kept my hopes, dreams, and childhood memories. His words could not devour me there, and his violence could not poison my soul because I was in my own world, away from this reality. When it was all over, and the only thing left were bruises, tears, and bleeding flesh, I felt a relief run through my body. It was so predictable. For there was no more need to recede, only to recover. There was no more reason to be afraid; it was over. He would feel sorry for me, promise that it would never happen again, hold me, and say how much he loved me. This was the end of the pain, not the beginning, and I believed that everything would be all right.
Who brought me here? Out of impulse, my hand travels to my face, pressing the throbbing area on my right temple. I felt a scar and flinched at the pain. I tried to get up. Once I stepped on the cold, white tiles, I instantly fell back on to the bed. My body, engulfed in pain as if objecting my decision to stand up. I lay there pathetically, waiting for the pain to wash away. Staring at the ceiling, illuminated with a white fluorescent light. Perhaps waiting for some help by the hospital staff. I still didn't know how I got here, who took me here, how long I've been here.
My mom, my dad, my orthopedic surgeon, and I were crowded in a small, square, freezing, plain white office where the scent of hand sanitizer filled the air and the only decorations were plastic cadavers. It was a completely different change of scenery from last week when I was stuck in an MRI machine that engulfed my entire body and made loud, uncanny noises for the full forty minutes of the exam. I could not decide if I was more scared in this week’s small office or last week’s big machine. Although it was freezing in the office, sweat started to build up on my forehead because I was too anxious for the words that would come out of my surgeon’s mouth. And they were the exact words that I did not want to
And with that I gathered my all my stuff including my jacket and suitcase and left the Long Island Cafe. I wandered out of the coffee shop feeling my legs go numb. I even said to myself. How could this happen? Like I knew she needed help but I still never did anything. It was 5:43 as I could remember. The day when I stepped out of my box and help my mom. I crossed the street from Rosedale to McCarthy going right to my apartment. God, as I could still feel the wind blowing my long hair from side to side as I firmly tried to stop it. Without ...
...ed eyes, vision growing fainter, body becoming paralyzed, and the hum of the hospital machines muting to a dull throb. And slowly I rise, rise into the escape of pure bliss.
When I was a child I used to be frightened of entering such a place for it seemed so imposing and somewhat dangerous, especially when music was being played. One day, in order to keep a promise I had made, I saw myself forced to enter. It took me quite a while to get the courage to pass through the old oak door, but the moment I stepped in, I realized just how enchanting and breathtaking this building could be. Its fantastic architecture and exquisite frescoes reflect perfectly the unity between this earth and the unseen kingdom of angels in such a manner that one cannot say where one ends and the other begins. The way in which the church was built is also the vivid testimony of a medieval period. Although it is a place that can sometimes be cold and ask for respect it is where prayers are answered and magic is done. An overwhelming feeling of inner harmony takes over you once you enter and God seems much closer. Darkness and light are welded perfectly together creating Redemption’s house. The tower allows you to see the entire town from the smallest river to the biggest building site, offering you its mightiness.
They think that I can’t hear them. They think that I am brain dead, unconsciously lying on this hard hospital mattress. What they don’t know is that I can hear everything. Every weep, prayer, and every sad word that my wife whispers to me. I long to be able to reach out and grab her hand, to tell her that I am still here, and that everything will be okay. I hear the doctors talking as well, and I feel that my death may be imminent.