I was there, sitting on a polished wooden chair on one corner of the room with unnatural wind from the air-conditioner blowing onto my face, too cold for summer. I scanned through the barely empty room; the four walls was painted sky blue, a simple neat bed on the corner of the room wrapped in brilliant white sheet and a stainless steel sink, which reflected Mom and Dad who were sitting too, waiting.
I heard growing footsteps outside the room but I couldn’t figure from whom it belonged to. I looked through the frosted glass door, a tall shadow approaching the door. The door opened in no time and there he was, wearing a white coat and crimson shirt, faultlessly ironed. He sat on a black leather chair afterwards.
Dr. Miller.
“We were waiting for you,” mom said, her face brushed with sheer make-up.
“Well, nice to see you then,” he replied in a sonorous tone and his eyes were locked onto an envelope he brought which was now lying still on the cold oak desk.
Dr. Miller held up a brown textured envelope that looks like it had been recycled out of old newspaper, because of the uneven black tints. A smell of glue then punctured my nose. He slowly opened the A3 sized envelope with a golden letter opener. Inside was a clean sheet of paper containing critical piece of information, something that might change my life.
Chills run through my back, I felt uneasy and that usually means that something isn’t right. Dr. Miller cleared his throat when he saw the test results and mom and dad looked tense. I screamed wildly and violently all of a sudden, too afraid to face the reality, nurses came in white dresses with half their faces covered in blue surgical masks. They all gave a uniform look; their eyes enlarged to fear me.
“We need to calm you down, baby, you’ll be okay,” said mom who was looking down at me who was surrounded by four unfamiliar nurses.
“NOOOOOOOOO!!” I screamed again, seeing a syringe with clear liquid held by one of the nurses.
The nurses injected the liquid into me and I felt instant weakness. By the time I woke up, mom and dad was staring at me. I was on the hospital bed, the brick-hard mattress covered in brilliant white sheet and blood smeared all over. I was terrified and felt great horror; my heart was throbbing fast.
“Where--where am I?” I asked to mom and dad.
“Oh, darling, how dare you ask that question?” mom replied; her sentence was spoken in a soft tone.
“I need an answer,”
Mum smiled at me and one of the nurses held up an infusion bag filled with ink black sludge that heaved as the nurse approached me.
“Sweetheart, you know what time is this for, don’t you?” the nurse smirked, still holding up the horrifying infusion bag.
Two other nurses grabbed my wrists while I tried to struggle and fight but their grip was so tight that I could feel my pulse pushing blood through my confined veins. The nurse who held the infusion bag attached a clear tube with a needle end, a fearfully sharp needle the size of an adult’s pinkie. I wanted to scream so desperately but I was paralyzed, I could barely blink.
“Sweetheart, you wouldn’t feel anything,” phrased the nurse. I didn’t trust her.
The needle bore into my skin and into my flesh, and then reached my vein, I screamed and screamed until I couldn’t make anymore sound. The sludge was pumped into me and I sensed the oozing liquid slitting my blood vessel into half. The pain in the throat was incomparable than the pain sourced from the needle. I figured, the harder I scream, the harder the nurse pumps the endless sludge into me.
That was the prologue, it tells about a nightmare of a leukemic girl and she was going to have chemo for the first time(which she was extremely scared about). Tell me about what you think. Do I make lots of grammar mistakes?Do you like it? What can be improved. Thx. I'm still 15 btw and nt a native speaker, bear with me.
I heard growing footsteps outside the room but I couldn’t figure from whom it belonged to. I looked through the frosted glass door, a tall shadow approaching the door. The door opened in no time and there he was, wearing a white coat and crimson shirt, faultlessly ironed. He sat on a black leather chair afterwards.
Dr. Miller.
“We were waiting for you,” mom said, her face brushed with sheer make-up.
“Well, nice to see you then,” he replied in a sonorous tone and his eyes were locked onto an envelope he brought which was now lying still on the cold oak desk.
Dr. Miller held up a brown textured envelope that looks like it had been recycled out of old newspaper, because of the uneven black tints. A smell of glue then punctured my nose. He slowly opened the A3 sized envelope with a golden letter opener. Inside was a clean sheet of paper containing critical piece of information, something that might change my life.
Chills run through my back, I felt uneasy and that usually means that something isn’t right. Dr. Miller cleared his throat when he saw the test results and mom and dad looked tense. I screamed wildly and violently all of a sudden, too afraid to face the reality, nurses came in white dresses with half their faces covered in blue surgical masks. They all gave a uniform look; their eyes enlarged to fear me.
“We need to calm you down, baby, you’ll be okay,” said mom who was looking down at me who was surrounded by four unfamiliar nurses.
“NOOOOOOOOO!!” I screamed again, seeing a syringe with clear liquid held by one of the nurses.
The nurses injected the liquid into me and I felt instant weakness. By the time I woke up, mom and dad was staring at me. I was on the hospital bed, the brick-hard mattress covered in brilliant white sheet and blood smeared all over. I was terrified and felt great horror; my heart was throbbing fast.
“Where--where am I?” I asked to mom and dad.
“Oh, darling, how dare you ask that question?” mom replied; her sentence was spoken in a soft tone.
“I need an answer,”
Mum smiled at me and one of the nurses held up an infusion bag filled with ink black sludge that heaved as the nurse approached me.
“Sweetheart, you know what time is this for, don’t you?” the nurse smirked, still holding up the horrifying infusion bag.
Two other nurses grabbed my wrists while I tried to struggle and fight but their grip was so tight that I could feel my pulse pushing blood through my confined veins. The nurse who held the infusion bag attached a clear tube with a needle end, a fearfully sharp needle the size of an adult’s pinkie. I wanted to scream so desperately but I was paralyzed, I could barely blink.
“Sweetheart, you wouldn’t feel anything,” phrased the nurse. I didn’t trust her.
The needle bore into my skin and into my flesh, and then reached my vein, I screamed and screamed until I couldn’t make anymore sound. The sludge was pumped into me and I sensed the oozing liquid slitting my blood vessel into half. The pain in the throat was incomparable than the pain sourced from the needle. I figured, the harder I scream, the harder the nurse pumps the endless sludge into me.
That was the prologue, it tells about a nightmare of a leukemic girl and she was going to have chemo for the first time(which she was extremely scared about). Tell me about what you think. Do I make lots of grammar mistakes?Do you like it? What can be improved. Thx. I'm still 15 btw and nt a native speaker, bear with me.