By Ashley Hothersall
Stark white walls. White cabinets attached to white countertops. A small, square room lined with approximately forty white tiles. There is nothing worse than sitting in these tiny, white rooms. That and waiting. It’s enough to make a person go crazy.
But my imagination saves me. It starts to take me places. Sometimes a place in the future, some other place I’d like to be. Or sometimes a place in my past, contemplating what I would have done differently, what I could have said. And sometimes, I find myself lost in a memory.
I remember being five years old. I’m home from school sick, and I’m sitting on my daddy’s lap in his raggedy blue La-Z-Boy chair. A dewy breeze from the ajar sliding door beside us fills the room with the smell of rain and the TV is on; Animal Planet, my dad’s staple channel. A lion attacks a zebra and the patter of raindrops against our patio muffles the sound of feral agony. Unaffected, I look to my father, through his thick, curly eyelashes and into his chestnut brown eyes and I say, “Daddy, my throat hurts,” and he says, “I know baby, my throat hurts too.”
After a few days, my sore throat goes away. But his doesn’t. His is cancer. Six months later, he’s gone.
There’s a tap on the door and my hanging head snaps up as it opens. White lady, white jacket, baby blue scrubs grazing neat, white shoes.
“Miss Malloy?”
“Yes,” I reply, my voice throaty and raw.
“I have the results.”
She sits down in her rolling chair and the beat of my heart slows into a single, heavy throb. She folds her hands over her lap distinctively, preparing herself to speak. But I already know what her words will reveal; her display says it all.
“First, let’s discuss treatments.”
She rambles on but my ears filter out her voice. Taking a deep breath, I lean back on the papered bed and gaze off at the ceiling. Approximately twenty-five white panels.
Bright, white fluorescent lights. I wish I could die like the zebra: quick and unexpectedly. There is nothing worse than waiting.
One of my favorite stories. Loved it.
So many emotions. I love this story!
I love the way the elements of this story are woven together and create a deep sadness and nostalgia as well as horror, fear and something close to denial.
Beautifully shown. Thank you.
The waiting is the worst. Nice job.
The above comments say it much better than I. Yours is the best story this go around. A real WINNER!
Real, compelling, believable…loved it!
Thank you all for the kind comments!
I knew it was a hospital. I like where you went with the story. Continue your imaginative efforts.
I enjoyed this. Moving with being overly sentimental.