About being unable to spend every night with her, he was sorry. About her being confined to the hospital, he was sorry. He was sorry that her fever never left 104.9 degrees fahrenheit and he was sorry that all he could ever do was hold her hand and wait for her body to heal. There was so little he could do, and now there were only two words that described him: desperate and helpless. Roy rested his head on the edge of the bed. It wasn't a coma she was in, per se, but it was still pretty damn dangerous. Her fever never changed, for better or worse, and she was kept on constant fluids, for both nutrition and hydration. Jamie said that she would get better in time, that this wasn't a coma, and that her body was simply trying to catch up with the events of the past two months. It was harder to believe that statement when he saw her. Everyday, Roy came into Camille's room with breakfast, a book, and a cellphone cradled in his back pocket. At the end of everyday, he would return home with Jamie and go through the standard routine of another lonely night without her. Every night he would suffer through anxiety dreams of her not making it until the morning and every morning he would find her breathing. On the weekends, Adrian would come on Saturday and Jack would come on Sundays. It was a routine they'd been practicing for a month now and while he saw it wearing on his housemates, he felt as devastated and heartbroken as he had at the start of this. A sad truth was that his world revolved around Camille. His moods were so intertwined with hers, that he reacted to every nuance. His hobbies from when he was a teenager had all but faded ever since he became so enraptured with her. He had forgotten what it felt like to play the piano, t... ... middle of paper ... ...mbled. "I wouldn't want to spend my life with anyone else." "Thank you," He sighed. She was adrift in a sea of blue before anything else could be exchanged. [Line Break] Roy's arms wrapped around her and even if her joints ached and she felt hotter than Hell, it was cozy and comforting. The television was a bland background noise that she barely heard, and even if Roy was feeling depressed, he still held her close. Her entire body ached, but at least her legs were functional and her head wasn't pounding. The air-conditioner was on full-blast, but she was wrapped in a blanket. The phone was in Roy's hand and he was talking to Jamie on the other end. She only heard bits and pieces, and when they finally hung up, Roy carefully eased himself out from behind her. "Adrian's coming," He sighed. Camille nodded and snuggled into her pillow, "Okay..."
She had been in New York for quite some time, doing well in school and with a brand new best friend. When she returned to her grandparents, she nurtured her grandpa in his last moments, and when he had taken his last breath a little bit of Jacqueline had slipped away as well. It isn’t that she hadn’t cherished the time with her grandfather, but as if his death was too sudden, and when she had started to really find her way in New York and South Carolina began to fade into a memory, the news was a wake up call.
She was feeling no pain anywhere in her body and the child within was as lively as he’d been before her fall down the steps. She lay quietly and without so much as a twitch listening to May-bell and Jared’s concerned voices.
Roy has lost his wife which has caused him to feel down and loose his appetite. This can lead to
Suddenly her bed was empty. Her room was empty. The nametag on her door was gone. Annie slept most of the weekend and, one day, just didn’t wake up. She was gone. I was shattered. ================
Right from the moment Louise Mallard hears of her husband's death, Kate Chopin dives into a her vivid use of imagery. “When the storm of grief has spent itself” introduces a weather oriented theme (para.3). This imagery depicts a violent and dark setting that denotes death and grief. Her reaction to her husband's death ideally what society would expect. Her acute reaction instantly shows that she is an emotional, demonstrative woman. Even tho...
Martha and I sat beside Emily as the ambulance took her to the hospital. We tried to wake her up, but she barely responded. It was like Emily was asleep for the first time in days.
After surgery Grace just lied in bed in so much pain. She cried out “help me…. I’m so cold, I’m so frightened” (654)! This is when the reader notices the shift in Graces attitude. Her attitude shifts into a tone that can practically be heard by the reader. As many times as Grace cried out for help the reader could tell she was desperate.
...slightly. The disease seemed to loosen its grip on her body with each stroke. I was rejoicing when Anna’s head finally rested on her pillow, something that hadn’t happened since I had gotten there.
Mr. Woodifield is in the stage of depression, since he may have turned to harmful habits after his son’s death. He leaves the house only on Tuesdays, and his family has no idea what he is doing during this time: “Though what he did there the wife and girls
The phone fell from the woman's hand, landing with a loud crash on the tile floor and busting to pieces. No matter how hard she'd try, she couldn't help the sobs that escaped from her mouth. They became louder and louder, until suddenly they came to a stop. All emotion flooded from her body, and she lay there motionless on the tile. Her two young children hovering over her, fear evident in their eyes. She sat up, grabbing her two young children into her arms, hugging them tighter than she ever had.
Feeling jubilant and excited, they immersed themselves in hot water and soap and went to bed in what seemed like the most comfortable beds that they have ever laid on. Waking the next afternoon, the woman had freshly washed and ironed clothes laid out for them and a hot breakfast. The only thing that Josh had a problem doing was finding a way to thank the woman for all she had done for them. For she had restored his confidence, and gave him the encouragement that he needed to continue on his journey. Finally, the woman allowed them to write a letter to their mother, giving her comfort in knowing that they were still
It felt so dragged out because all I wanted was to see him and tell him the news. Our connection felt different, phone calls were made shorter and they weren’t as frequent. I missed him. Two nights had gone by without a phone call or even a message. This wasn’t typical of Luke. I was becoming increasingly worried. I tried to distract myself from the situation and went to Atlanta to visit my parent’s for the weekend. This provided a distraction from my despair. When I arrived home, the flat fell silent. I sat aimlessly on the sofa, starring at the telephone, hoping that maybe it would ring. I tried turning my television on but I was oblivious to anything around me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I knew something was wrong. Fifty-five minutes passed, as I stared at the phone. That was when I heard it
I sat in her room at her house with my Mom, Dad and Sister. She was asleep, curled up in a ball, rejecting any medicine we tried giving her. We knew her time with us was almost up but we didn’t want to admit it just yet. It was hard to look at her in the condition she was in: cold, skinny, and pale. My heart was aching and my mind was racing. I knew it wasn’t long before I had to say my goodbyes, but I didn’t want to face reality. Before leaving, I leaned over her hospital bed, hugged her tight, kissed her on her cheek, and said, “I love you.” She opened her eyes and said “I love you” back, with the strength she didn’t seem to have the entire day. That night, my heart was at
Mrs. Mallard’s repressed married life is a secret that she keeps to herself. She is not open and honest with her sister Josephine who has shown nothing but concern. This is clearly evident in the great care that her sister and husband’s friend Richard show to break the news of her husband’s tragic death as gently as they can. They think that she is so much in love with him that hearing the news of his death would aggravate her poor heart condition and lead to death. Little do they know that she did not love him dearly at all and in fact took the news in a very positive way, opening her arms to welcome a new life without her husband. This can be seen in the fact that when she storms into her room and her focus shifts drastically from that of her husband’s death to nature that is symbolic of new life and possibilities awaiting her. Her senses came to life; they come alive to the beauty in the nature. Her eyes could reach the vastness of the sky; she could smell the delicious breath of rain in the air; and ears became attentive to a song f...
I only knew him for a couple of minutes yet he was the most incredible man I have ever met in my entire life, she ended. As she tucked her children in they said goodnight to her, she switched off their light and everything went pitch black. She stood outside her children’s door and in line with her vision hung a battered, old guitar. Throughout all these years she had kept it with her, because she knew that never letting go of that guitar meant never letting go of that amazing memory. She just stood there gazing at it, virtually paralyzed, while a single drop of tear, from her brown-chestnut eyes, slowly made its way down her cheek then fell silently on the floor.