Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Waiting Room This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
   The ticking of the clock was slow, monotonous. Its stark white face, boldlyimprinted with black numbers, read 12: 05. A year ago it had been 12: 04. Theonly testament to the movement of time was the second hand, ticking. No onespoke, no one moved. The drab white room seemed frozen in time.

I didn'tdare to look around at the people in the waiting room. All was silent, except theclock. Everyone seemed engrossed in themselves, for they did not speak. Butglancing quickly around the room, I caught many a wandering eye. I could notspeak, and returned my stare to the clock. For if I were to speak, there would beonly one thing to say. What could be discussed except the obvious, the reason Iwas seated among these people? They glanced furtively around the room, thathidden question in their eyes: "And what's wrong with you?"

Abroken arm or two, some of the ailments were obvious. For others, the problem wasnot so evident. Why was that baby so silent and sad? Children that smallshouldn't have illnesses that make them so sick. But they did. We all did. Theadults, the children, they were all silent, they were all scared. Just like Iwas. The large white nurse opened the stark white door. Doctors, now exposed toour vision, ran about, also in white, hurriedly. The nurse would call a name, aperson, perhaps a mother and child, would rise. Then they would disappear behindthe stark white door. The nurse feigned no kindness. She was as stark as heruniform and her surroundings, her personality as void as the white waitingroom.

The tension in the room was obvious. Everyone wanted to know,"What's wrong?" But they were too scared to ask. Silence, the bestdefense, was as impenetrable as the white walls. I just want to go home, Ithought. I don't want to be sick anymore. The people in the waiting room glancedshamefacedly at me. They want to know why I'm here, but I don't. The nursereappeared, shattering the silence. She called my name, without expression, noteven trying to pronounce it right, not caring that she butchered it almost beyondrecognition. I stood. "Follow me," she said.


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Join the Discussion

This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

In_Love_with_Writing said...
Jan. 10, 2013 at 8:03 am
Wow. Very cold. You did a good job of setting the scene. Can you comment and rate some of my work?
 
IRUEHL said...
Apr. 25, 2011 at 6:52 pm
great job! you might want to fix the spaces between words but other than that it was awesome, i loved the "stark white door" addition- it really adds extra feeling to your essay
 
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback