December 15, 2010
By TaylorILY SILVER, Jackman, Maine
TaylorILY SILVER, Jackman, Maine
8 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
there's no gravity up here.
it's kind of hard to explain.
every time i'm holding you,
it's like backwards rain.

Pain. All I can feel. My eyes flutter open to a bright room. Doctors all around me. Tubes and wiring everywhere I look. Attached from every opening not on single familiar face in the whole room. The strong smell of morphine catches me off guard. Scanning the room I realize I was once dead. For a brief moment in time I was gone.

Instantly filled with rage I life my shaky hand and rip out the tubes. As the doctors run to contain me, i stumble to my hurting feet. I spring myself toward the door and then once again realize, I have no strength.

Settling back down I scan the room again. There was a bed beside mine A girl a lot younger than me. Maybe ten, in worse shape than i was. She was beautiful with her long flowing red hair and deep blue eyes that like everyone else have a story to tell.

Her breathing was uneven and heavy. She would moan and whimper every time the nurse touched her. Her broken, bloody, bruised and torn body with blood stained sheets laid there. Sorrow over comes me. This little girl around ten years old looked so familiar.

Then her breathing stopped for only seconds she laid motionless. Doctors and nurses filled the open spaces around her. Then it hits me. Im the reason that this girl is in the hospital. That girl around ten years old, with long flowing red hair and amazing blue eyes, was not only here because of me, but my sister....

Shock filled screamed echo through the room, as her breathing started up once again. Praying and praying hard that her breathing would continue. Whispering to her that everything was going to be alright, more screams fill my ears. As they try to calm her down, my sisters heart starts racing again, then slows then racing once more. The doctors whispers contain the bright room. All i can hear is “Shes not going to make it,” and “but what if.” Their voice. Their questions. No answers

As I black out once more, I hear my sisters hoarse voice scream my name.

When my baby green eyes open, the room no longer smells of morphine. All sources of light were gone and it was quiet. The room was empty and dark. Once filled with all sorts of life, now seemed to be filled with nothing but darkness and death. Nothing but dead roses by my sisters bed seemed to catch my eye.

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