Facing death by hypersarah

This morning fate became reality. I was sitting on that hard plastic chair, the dirty coldness of fading white walls drowned me up. From the depths ,I heard those words, the words that make me think, stop me dreaming and froze my life.
" I'm sorry there's nothing we can do." My mum squeezed my hand as the doctor fidgeted in his chair and a hard lump ran through my throat as I realised that nothing mattered anymore. My past is all I have to show and my future well there isn't really much living to do there anyway. I've made my mark in this world and I can't change it. I'm 12 years old, I'll probably never be more than that. Life is scary when you can imagine your own gravestone, your own funeral.

I live every day with fear but I can't have regrets I've learnt that life really is to short for that. I want to live my last moments happy. I can't have dreams so I'll have to make every moment one of my old dreams. I'm stuck with this so I'm learning to live with it. I try and live every day to the full, try to forget about what's happening but you can't stop that feeling in your stomach, like every moment your going to be sick. But like I said I can live with that.

What makes me cry myself to sleep is my mum and dad, they smile like nothings wrong they're always there ,but you can see what its doing to them. Their faces are pale and drained, the life in them is gone. The laughter, jokes and people I know have been taken. I wish, I wish what a laugh, I should know that wishes don't come true but I still wish , I wish that I could ,could die with laughter in my bones. Die what an awfully big word that seems, no one uses that word it's "your last moments" "when the time comes". No I'm going to die, it makes me shiver but I have to live with the truth, I'm going to die.

My parents love me and they always will. When I die I want them to live their lives maybe have another child. I know they probably won't but if I could have a dying wish it would be for them to forget about me. Or at least be happy. Even if they forget me, they'd love me but this is again another wish. I always wanted to be a big sister. It doesn't really matter if I'm dead, I still want to be a big sister its just looking down on him or her will be more literal.

Pale walls , Dirty pale walls every second that is my view, I always liked sleep but my bed has lost its appeal every waking second is boring but I don't have the energy any more. I still smile and laugh but my parents laughs are fake. What I'd do for real joy. My voice goes hoarse as I tell mum and dad I love them I know they love me. I'll always know they love me. Always.

All articles on this website by hypersarah are copyright ©hypersarah and should not be reproduced without the author's prior written consent. All opinions are the opinions of their respective authors and are not necessarily the opinions of The Writers' Circle.

Comments

rowland

29 October 2008

Hi,
I enjoyed your story it was well written and very thought provoking, but I'm not totally convinced that a twelve year old would be so philosophical about her pending death. Apart from that, I have a few other observations that I feel will make your writing that much better. The opening paragraph of any story should be gripping and grab the reader by the lapels and make them want to read more. Throughout your story you tell rather than show which is not what the reader wants. I hope you don't mind but I have taken your first paragraph and rewritten it to show what I mean.
.
'I'm sorry there is nothing more we can do.'
Mum squeezed my hand tight as the doctor fidgeted in his chair as he spoke those words. My mouth went dry, the hard lump of anxiety blocking my airway jumped with the shock of what he had just said. Suddenly, nothing mattered anymore. The room began spinning, the starkness of the cold white emulsion walls crowding in on me as if squeezing out what little life was left for me. My past was all that I had or would ever have. To leave this world having made no mark at twelve years of age was scary and something I didn't want to think about.
This is showing.

Your punctuation and grammar needs to be looked at. (Your and you're) (Its and it's) Your writing for presentation should be in double spacing for easy reading. In dialogue remember always a new paragraph when someone speaks. When you finish your writing you should always carry out what I refer to as pruning and polishing. In other words correct, alter and add. Your characters need to be real especially if you want the reader to empathise with the situation he/she finds themselves in.

For example: She stumbled across a farm, where the jolly farmer's wife with apple red cheeks gave her a rosy smile, food and a bed for the night (Are you yawning yet) After a good nights sleep, she crept into the farm house kitchen to find the not so rosy apple cheek farmers wife with a carving knife sticking out of her back. So What! Who cares? Do you see what I mean?

Don't be disheartened by what I have said you clearly have a talent for writing and you should continue. If you start to show instead of telling a story believe me you will get more enjoyment out of your writing. If I can be of any further help you know where I am.
Regards

Carl

30 October 2008

I too think this is the viewpoint of somebody older than twelve - 16 or 17 maybe - in which case the parents having another child might be unlikely. Perhaps the main character could emotionally allow her parents to adopt or foster or something like that.

It is a powerful, emotive piece of work.