Some things, are better left untold and some things must be revealed. The time, 2300 hours. The setting, a doctor's waiting room, tensely waiting, someone was just stabbed. A twenty-four year-old male was lying on what just hours ago seemed like a death bed.
He was lying in the hospital bed, it was as desperate a situation as the new nurse on-duty, Alicia had ever faced. There, on the bed was a man who had just been brought in for serious stab injuries on his chest. The heart monitor showed no heart beat and the doctors couldn't find a pulse but the man’s eyes kept fluttering half-opened, half-closed. Also, barely audible over the noises of the heart monitor flat-lining, the doctors yelling clear, and footsteps running desperately all around him were the mumbled words that he was trying to relay to whoever he thought was there.
The nurse Alyss heard these and for a while she pondered them whilst running hectically around trying to bring this seemingly dead man back to life. The only problem was one they never would have thought of or encountered, how do you bring something back to life that has been dead for over 500 years? Eventually, they had to bring the body to the morgue. This distressed the young nurse seeing as how she had heard him speak. Although what distressed her more was how did one talk without a heartbeat or a pulse? How did one speak with no breath?
She went out into the waiting room of the hospital expecting to see some kind of family or friend for the handsome man with no name. She was instead surprised when she looked around the room and saw the door to her right, a staff only zone, swinging back and forth on its hinge, with a man walking away quickly and very purposefully, to get out. Alyss...
... middle of paper ...
... “Fine, fine.” Alyss muttered. Shrugging away.
“I will take her home,” the tall man declared, his soft voice calming them. He walked her to her car, a few rows over, and opened the passenger door for her.
“Where are you taking me” Alyss asked regaining her sense.
“I told you, home.” He stated simply, looking curiously at her with his deep silvery-blue eyes.
“How did you get to me? It wasn’t possible.” She questioned again.
“I had to.” Was his only reply.
He pulled up to her house and she asked him, “What did you mean?, Last night. How are you okay!! And what should I call you?”
He looked at her and smiled, “I think you can remember, my Queen.” Her pale face gained what would be a blush if she still could manage that light dusting of pink.
~~My Alyss, the one from back then. My only other. Have you came back to me after all this time?~~
The story teller does not like her room and desires to stay in one downstairs that opens o...
Finding a door to exit would become a puzzling exercise during one of their St. Albans investigations. Terri and Marie were in what is known as “the safe room,” because a large old-fashioned safe is located there. They had completed their investigation and were readying to leave the room when they realized they couldn’t. There wasn’t a door. “It was as if it had been morphed over,” said Terri. “We went around and around in circles. We were growing concerned when we made another lap and there it was. It was as if the door materialized out of nowhere,” she said.
she blushed deeply. “To tell the truth it has been so often called a charm that I was
He was learning to survive. This man was filled with stress and anxiety. When you’re stressed your body doesn’t react the way it would if you weren’t stressed. He was anxious and his heart was beating fast. His mind was scrambling trying to figure out what was happening.
When initially asked about the morality of lying, it is easy for one to condemn it for being wrong or even corrupt. However, those asked are generally guilty of the crime on a daily basis. Lying is, unfortunately, a normal aspect of everyday life. In the essay “The Ways We Lie,” author Stephanie Ericsson makes note of the most common types of lies along with their consequences. By ordering the categories from least to most severe, she expresses the idea that lies enshroud our daily lives to the extent that we can no longer between fact and fiction. To fully bring this argument into perspective, Ericsson utilizes metaphor, rhetorical questions, and allusion.
The doctor also stated that John “possesses great vitality; but even his temperate life can’t save him”. From that point on John’s condition was severe and helpless. The doctor then mentioned to Alcott to reveal the news to John since women have a more “comfortable” way of saying things. The nurse then held in her tears and hesitated She immediately found it quite difficult as she contemplated to find a way to tell John that he was going to die. So many things were running through the nurses mind at this point, she begin to hope that he would feel better and found it pitiless to tell a patient that he is going to die. To make matters worst, the nurse was told the patient may only live up to two
A request by the local newspaper to interview Karl before he is released is approved and he is escorted through the clinical white corridors of what he calls the ‘nervous hospital. Karl gives his detailed story of how he murdered his mother and her lover to a trainee journalist from the local newspaper. Karl waits outside the room, the fluorescent lights in the room are turned off and a ...
"You like it, eh?" Her father bestowed on her his secret smile. In truth it was more of a smirk. Right lip raised slightly to expose an endearing dimple beneath his moustache, his cupid's bow lips pursed so it looked like he was pouting. "I forget you are fierce, like she was."
As I walked down the corridor I noticed a man lying in a hospital bed with only a television, two dressers, and a single window looking out at nothing cluttering his room. Depression overwhelmed me as I stared at the man laying on his bed, wearing a hospital gown stained by failed attempts to feed himself and watching a television that was not on. The fragments of an existence of a life once active and full of conviction and youth, now laid immovable in a state of unconsciousness. He was unaffected by my presence and remained in his stupor, despondently watching the blank screen. The solitude I felt by merely observing the occupants of the home forced me to recognize the mentality of our culture, out with the old and in with the new.
The heavy door seemed like a prison door that was meant to keep inmates inside. The Nurse on the other hand who was attending the visitor’s desk was dressed in a white uniform. She was as cold in her reception, similar to the day that was cold outside. Marian does not tell the nurse her true intentions of being there except that she was a campfire girl wanting to visit some old lady. When asked by the nurse in a manly voice “Acquainted with any of our residents?” (122), Marian nervously pushing her hair behind and stammers “With any old ladies? No – but – that is, any of them will do”. (122) showing that the both of them were really not concerned about the
her to "take a ride" with him in his car. She had seen this man the night before staring at her in the
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. I sat down on the plush blue chairs outside the hospital room and wept. Nevil was officially declared dead by the hospital workers. “We really didn’t mean to right? Tommy?” Danny asked me. In my mind the scene of Nevil being crushed kept repeating over and over again. Nevil’s mom, the one who provided us with chocolate chip cookies and hospitality, cried loudly in her room. All of the Redhands sat in extra chairs outside Nevil’s room. Sally returned from the bathroom with Mary. Sally, who had an extremely irregular heartbeat for a teenager, was having trouble breathing. Mary just stared straight ahead, and wouldn’t say another word for almost three weeks. “Where is my son?” I heard a voice shout from the main desk. Oh goodness it’s Nevil’s dad.
Once upon a time in a land of mysteries, a soldier dwarf not like any other soldier was traveling through the forest and trips on a log, creating a loud thunderous thud. Awakening all of the forest as the wave of force moved throughout. The man dizzily stood up clinging on to a nearby tree to steady him. The man took effort to continue walking again. But the pain in his side from being slashed was too much to bear. The man then fell back down but to his knees weeping in pain from the gruesome slash that went from the bottom of his ribs to the middle of his chest. The man rolled on to one knee and fell to his back, and as the man look up towards the branches of trees the light seemed to fade, as he heard faint cries of his fellow soldiers fighting in the war miles away he passed out on the forest floor.
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
She slammed the door behind her. Her face was hot as she grabbed her new perfume and flung it forcefully against the wall. That was the perfume that he had bought for her. She didn't want it anymore. His voice coaxed from the other side of the door. She shouted at him to get away. Throwing herself on the bed and covering her face with one of his shirts, she cried. His voice coaxed constantly, saying Carol, let me in. Let me explain.' She shouted out no!' Then cried some more. Time passed with each sob she made. When she caught herself, there was no sound on the other side of the door. A long silence stood between her and the door. Maybe she had been too hard on him, she thought. Maybe he really had a good explanation. She hesitated before she walked toward the door and twisted the handle. Her heart was crying out to her at this moment. He wasn't there. She called out his name. "Thomas!" Her cries were interrupted by the revving of an engine in the garage. She made it to the window in time to see his Volvo back out the yard. "Thomas! Thomas....wait!" Her cries vanished into thin air as the Volvo disappeared around the bend. Carol grew really angry all of a sudden. How could he leave? He'll sleep on the couch when he gets back. Those were her thoughts.