Beta Trainer
... Well, I wonder.
- 32
- Posts
- 18
- Years
- Ireland
- Seen Nov 29, 2006
This is a request from my good friend, and I agreed to write it. Enjoy!
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"Name and age," an elderly man croaks, mischevious eyes staring at me behind horn rimmed glasses. His voice is croaking and not very nice, I think to myself, as I squirm uncomfortabley in my seat. My feet are dangling weightlessly over the edge of the flat wood. The office is very cramped, and I feel like I'm being force-squeezed through a tiny crack in the wall despite the fact that I do not fit. Mummy is gripping onto my hand much too tight, and I wince in pain, biting my lip to stop my eyes from watering. He is wearing a happy coat bursting with white, with a little lable on the front, like the kind of lables when you buy dollies or candy and it always always says how much it will cost for you to buy it. Mummy looks down at me expectantly and I pipe up, and answer the old man's question.
"My name is Holly Li -- Lil -- Lef --." I cannot pronounce even my own name. The words just roll round and round and round like the wheels on our mini-van and I look up at Mummy who just smiles that angel smile of hers -- the one that Daddy likes -- and she whispers the word to me, as they escape her rosy lips softly and breathlessly, floating through the air minutes after she mouths them.
"Holly LeFay, and I'm seven and a half! But I'm gonna be eight in June, and then I can know things," I beam, examining my black buckle low heel shoes closely. The old man raises an eyebrow, and I get the weird feeling that something very bad is going to happen, and I'm going to get scolded by Daddy. Mummy never scolds me. She just tells me to promise that I'll never do it again. And, true to my word, I never do.
"Your a little scrawny for your age," he tells me. Mummy said that he was going to be a nice man that would help me. Mummy must've lied. But Mummy never lies.
The blood runs to my face, setting of my sleek ginger hair, giving the impression that my scalp is ablaze. First off, I am not scrawny. How can I describe myself? I'm the tallest girl in my class, and I have muddy hazel eyes, people say, but they say that my eyes look really quiet. But I don't understand. Eyes can't talk. Grown-ups say the silliest things sometimes.
I play hopschotch around the old mans office while him and Mummy took about spreading and tissue.
Someone must have the flu, I think to myself. I had the flu once, but Aunt Lucia helped me get better, and she gave me lots of medicine and soup. And Belle stayed with me all the time and she and I played lots and lots of games together! Oh, I didn't tell you about Belle! The lovely Belle is my Masquerin, which my Daddy caught for me when he went to the big building where they fight. Mummy cried when he left, but I gave her a hug and that made her all better. Belle helped too! One day, Belle and me will go to the big building and fight too, but I don't want Mummy to cry anymore. She still cries sometimes, because I'm sick.
The sickness started when I was real little, and Mummy and Daddy brought me to the scary room where they put the pointy needle (it hurts a lot!) in my arm and I get better. But then I go ill again. I don't like being ill. I can't see my friends, or my family, because I'm in the white building with the red cross all the time. Belle understands whats going on, but she makes me happy by doing funny faces. I laugh and clap and tell her to repeat all of my favourite ones. I hear the old mans croaky voice again, and the picture of the frogs near the pond beside our cottage goes "pop" into my head.
"Where did it hurt, Holly?" he asks me. His voice is worried for me. I think for a minute about the day before. After a second, I point to my throat, and the man sighs and starts talking to Mummy again. I squint up my eyes and try to remember how I'm sick. Ah! Now I remember!
Its called cancer, I think.
Mummy starts to cry. Only I can't hug her. I'm in a bed now, and the men and women keep on putting the pointy stick in my arm. Belle the Masquerin is laying on my head, breathing softly. We can set off to the big building someday, but I think I'll take a nap. Yup... a quick nap.
Someone is flashing a torchlight in my eyes. I go near them, and I tell them to stop. Flick. The light goes.
Mummy starts to cry.