Open Question: Read My Story And Criticize??? Please!!!?
This is a short story for language arts. I am only 13 so it may need quite a bit of criticism.
What will happen to me after I die? Will anyone remember me for the good and the evil I have done in my life? What is on the other side of death? Darkness perhaps? Or a whole new world full of wonder, those lost friends and dearly missed loved ones reunited with me? These are questions I ask myself as I realize that my life is coming to a close. Although the biggest question of all is…will someone be there to hold my hand as my very heartbeat comes to a stop?
Trapped. I am trapped like a bird in a cage in this nursing home. People come to visit me. sometimes I recognize them, sometimes I do not. Perhaps this is because of my disease, Alzheimer’s. They have told me it is incurable. Perhaps it will make me die faster. Death would be welcomed by me with open arms at this point. This is a terrible place to end my last moments but no one comes to take me away. Maybe that blond woman was my daughter? Maybe she would take me? The most horrible part of my disease is that sometimes I do not even remember who I am. I do now though. Henrietta Tyme is my name. My past is a blur, unfortunately, but glimpses of it come to my mind at times.
The first thing that I usually remember from my past is a man. A man with brown hair and kind blue eyes. Every time I remember him, I feel a pull at my heart. He…seems to be my…father? Perhaps. Next, I remember a hospital bed. With…a woman on it. She looks quite ill and has blonde hair and soft Born eyes like a doe’s. In my memory, her eyes are open wide and a stricken look seems to be permanently etched onto her face. Despite this, she looks rather beautiful. My…mother maybe? The third memory shows a younger me, about 25 years old, holding a small child with short black curls framing her heart-shaped face. Possibly my daughter. The last memory, the clearest one of all, is that of an old man. He is not moving and his messy gray hair is flecked with black splatters. Thick red blood is flowing smoothly from him chest like a scarlet fountain. There are men shouting around him, carrying guns. He appears to be…dead. every time, as I am remembering this, my eyes fill to the brim with unwanted tears. He is my husband. Of that I am sure. It is the only memory that I am sure of. I rest my chin upon my hand and let out a long, exhausted sigh. Suddenly, I feel dizzy! Darkness clouds my vision.
My eyes slowly open. Beneath me is a hospital bed. That is the first thing I notice. Death is beckoning to me. I can feel it. Many people appear to be in my room. Only one stands out. An old man with gray hair flecked with black splatters. Just as in my memory. He is standing at the end of my bed and no one else appears to see him. His chest has a deep hole in it, as if a knife has carved a hole in it. I slowly get up, but notice that my body does not. I seem to be a…spirit. Death must have taken me by surprise when I was not looking. My hand touches my husbands, a light flashes, and everything disappears.
Thank you soooo much!!!! I really appreciate it!
Wed, 28 Oct 2009 04:16:16 GMT
Open Question: 13 y/o Basset Hound with Abscess Tooth- Anesthesia v Gas?
At the first sign of symptoms, I took my 13.5 year old to the ER and they diagnosed the swelling under his eye as an abscess tooth. He was given clindomyacin and tramadol for immediate treatment/ relief. I have concerns about the tooth extraction because he has a mid-range audible heart murmur and one of his liver values is around 400. His appetite has been pretty good but I have concerns about that too. He loves life— enjoys walking 3xs a day, looks healthy and fit. I’m just losing my mind with this whole anesthesia dilemma. Do vets still use gas as an alternative? No lectures please on how important dental care is… we have always done teeth cleanings, brushed his teeth… he’s a very well maintained older gentleman. He’s the love of my life and I just want a little guidance please. Thank you.
Wed, 28 Oct 2009 04:10:16 GMT
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