Advertise Here
Want to advertise here? Get started for as little as $5
24 Hours Left

24 Hours Left

A Story by Dearantlers

Previous Version
This is a previous version of 24 Hours Left.



24 Hours Left

    

     I woke up to the sound of my parent‘s voices, wondering where I was. Then I remembered. I was in our local hospital after having one of the worse seizures I had had in a long time. The anesthesia they had given me to help calm it down had finally worn off. My eyes weren’t open, so it looked like I was still asleep. I could here my mother’s soft voice, higher than usual, as if she had been crying. Then there was my father’s deeper voice, also higher in pitch than usual. He was whispering comforting words to her, saying it would be all right, that they would figure things out. Mom couldn’t hold it in anymore, and a horrible sound that I guess was her crying came from her throat. Seeing Mom crying, Dad finally started too. His sound wasn’t as horrible, but it wasn’t comforting either. I forced my eyes open, blinking in the sudden light. Once my eyes adjusted, I tried to lift my head so I could see them, but the anesthesia still wasn’t completely gone, and I didn’t succeed. I let out a sigh, wishing I could see my parents. I imagined them hugging each other, tears running down their faces, but the picture just didn’t seem right. Parents aren’t supposed to cry.

 

      The crying stopped suddenly, and I wondered why. I heard the sound of feet as both of my parents stood up, and came to stand by me. They’re cheeks were streaked with tears, and more were still coming out. Mom stroked my cheek with her soft hand, and Dad ruffled my hair like he had when I was six. They were treating me like a six year old, not the fourteen year old I was. I mean, yeah, I was in a hospital after having a seizure so bad that they thought I might not make it, but I still didn’t appreciate the way they were acting. It was scaring me.

 

     "Abigail, honey, how are you feeling?" Mom asked. They were really scaring me. They never cried, and I was always Abby. The only times they called me Abigail was when I was in trouble, or they had something horrible to tell me. The last time I heard Abigail was the day I almost burned the house down when I tried to cook eggs and biscuits for breakfast.

 

     I tried to croak out "fine" in response, but my voice wouldn’t work. I licked my lips, and tried again, this time working out a feeble, "OK." My parents didn’t look convinced.

 

      "Can we get you anything?" Dad asked.

 

      "No, I’m fine," I croaked. "Why are you crying?" I asked, almost scared of their answer.

 

      They looked at each other, a question written on their face. "Should we tell her?" Dad asked Mom. I could tell he was hoping she would say no.

 

      "She has the right to know," Mom whispered, bursting into tears again, and hiding them in Dad’s shirt.

 

     "Right to know what?" I asked. They were really scaring me now. The crying, Abigail, right to know something? They never acted like this.

 

      "Abigail," Dad said, barely keeping back the tears. "The doctor’s say that your seizure did some damage to your body, and you may not feel it yet, but your heart isn’t working properly, and well, they said that you have only, only," he faltered, and I could tell he didn’t want to go on, but he had gone that far, and he better not stop now. "You have only about twenty-fours hours left to live." I barely heard "left to live" partly because of shock, but partly because it came out with a sob, and the flow of tears started again. He kept going, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tears at bay. "It’s too little time to do anything about it. The seizure was unexpected, and well, like I said, they can’t do anything about it."

 

      I just stared unseeing at the ceiling, running what he said through my mind again and again. The stupid seizures I have been having, but didn’t think were fatal, actually were fatal. I was going to die. I’d never get to say goodbye to Allison, my best friend, or Henry, the boy I’d had a crush on since second grade. I wouldn’t get to say goodbye to Sparkie, my dog, or Twister, my horse. My two kittens, Puss and Boots, would never playfully bite my fingers, or chase my feet as I walked around. The brand new book on my nightstand at home would never be opened; the camera I got for my birthday six days ago would never be used by me. I’d never go to our Junior High again, and see my favorite teachers, or all my other friends. Never again, would I leave this hospital. Well, I guess I would be, but not breathing.

 

     I couldn’t think those thoughts, and made a promise to myself that I would do all those things. How, I don’t know. I had no way to get out of the hospital, let alone get to my school, and especially not to my house, but I would figure something out. Today was Tuesday, and it was around 5 p.m. If I could somehow get out in the morning, be at school when it started, and then go home, I could be back here where I needed to be when my time was up. I made my mind up there and then that even if I had to crawl, I would get to the school, and my house, and say all of my good byes. All these thoughts were too much, and I fell asleep minutes after I had made up my mind.

 

     I woke up around five a.m. and came up with a plan. Allison would do anything for me if I asked, especially if she knew my condition, so, even though it was five a.m., I grabbed my phone and texted her, knowing she would be here at 7:30 like I’d asked her too. Then I started my preparations.

 

      I reached for my clothes. I was still in the embarrassing hospital gown, so I carefully changed into my regular clothes without trying to use too much energy. Even though I felt fine now, I knew that if I did even little things that my energy would be gone fast. I tried to do something with my hair, and when that was done, I started on another part of my project.

 

     As seven rolled around, I heard more activity outside of my closed door, and I shakily stood up, and walked slowly to open it. The simple five feet there and the five feet back left me panting, but I made it. I said "hi" to everyone who walked by so they would know I was awake, but only got sympathetic glances in return. I asked for breakfast from the only nurse who I knew, and in minutes, she brought it to me. I had just finished the scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon, when Allison walked in. She just stared at me, trying to comprehend how I would be dead within less than twelve hours. I could tell she was having trouble with it, refusing to believe that this was my last day on earth. I understood how she felt. The whole ‘No more me’ thingy was not sitting well with me. Less than half a day and I would be gone. Thoughts like that can really make a person feel different.

 

     "What’s the plan?" she asked, knowing what I wanted to do.

 

      "See the window behind me?" I asked pointing. She nodded at the obvious question because the window was impossible not to see. It was the only color in the drab white hospital room. "Now see the rope at the foot of the bed?" It wasn’t exactly a rope. More like my bedsheets, curtains, hospital gown, and all other forms of material that were in my room tied together.

 

     "What is it for?" Allison asked eyeing it suspiciously.

    

     "To climb out the window of course," I answered as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

    

      "But, it’s like, twenty feet down," she said, a little fear creeping into her voice.

 

     "Eh, the rope should be long enough. Plus, there are knots in it so that when we go down, we have something to hold on to." Despite my reassuring, she still didn’t look convinced.

     

      "Why do we have to go out the window?"

 

     "Because," I answered, a small sigh escaping me. "They won’t let me out of the hospital, and this is the only way." Allison just sighed in response.

We tied the end of my "rope" to the end of the bed, and crept out. It was harder than I thought, but I managed. "OK," I said. "Now, go and get your bike, and I’ll wait here for you." She ran off, and a minute later, I heard her bike coming along the sidewalk towards me. The bike was pink, which was Allison’s favorite color, and it had her little brother’s little red wagon on behind it. I jumped in, and we were off.

 

     It took about fifteen minutes to get to the school, and once there, I wondered if it was really a good idea to be doing this, but I still did it anyway. I went to my first hour class, Allison trailing behind me, and slowly walked up to the teacher. Once there, I had to catch my breath. The seizure had taken more out of me than I had thought, and my breathing had increased also because of the nervousness I was feeling because of what I was about to do. I was about to announce my death to everyone. I could just imagine me saying, "Hey guys. Just wanted to tell you that I’m going to die tonight. You’re all invited to my funeral, Saturday at then." I ignored my teachers surprised face at seeing me here. I had collapsed at school, so they all knew that I wouldn’t be back for a few days. I was here two days early. I told her that this would be my last day here. My voice cracked when I told her that the seizure was worse than any others, and that I had less than 12 hours left. Her eyes instantly welled up with tears as I asked her if I could say goodbye. She of course said yes.

 

     I explained why I was there to the class, and then said goodbye saying that they were all the best friends I could ever have had. I meant it to, even Dennis, the kid who through spitballs at me on a daily basis. Henry, the boy I’d had the crush on fell out of his chair he was so surprised, and other than that, there wasn’t a sound in the room. Then, a boy I barely knew came up to me and hugged me, and whispered in my ear, a feeble "Goodbye." His one act of kindness made the tears that I had so carefully hidden away be found, and they came gushing out in two great streams. Soon the whole class had came and did the same, Henry giving me a kiss on my cheek that made both our cheeks flush a bright red. I went to all the classes that had my classmates in them, and said goodbye.

 

     Then, Allison and I walked back out the doors to her bike, and she took me home. There, I hugged each dog, tears falling steadily down my face. I hugged my horse, and rubbed his face gently. I stroked each of my cats, and let the kittens attack my fingers as they played. I took my camera from my bedroom, and took a picture of everything, hoping the pictures in the camera would be forever in my head. The pictures were of everything that would stay in focus long enough for me to take the picture. Allison, the kittens and cats, my horse, the dogs, the house, the cars in the yard, and everything else. I just wished that my parents were there to take a picture of. I hung the camera around my neck, vowing to take one of them later. I thumbed through my new book, and took one last look at my home. Then, I glanced at Allison, and she helped me in the wagon, and took me away from my home for the last time. I didn’t glance back. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have seen anything. My eyes were too full of tears to even see my legs, inches away from my face.

 

     When we were back at the hospital, the nurses were going ballistic. A girl with about six hours left to live had gone missing, with a rope hanging out of her window. It’s not the greatest sign, especially when she can barely walk five feet without having to stop and catch her breath. When I walked in, leaning heavily on Allison’s shoulders, it seemed the nurses went even more frantic. They got me a wheelchair, and laid me back in my bed. They checked my heart rate, and almost anything else they could check, and I got pretty annoyed, until I saw my parents. Worry, grief, unhappiness, and disappointment in me for running off like that were all written on their faces, and those were the emotions the camera captured as I snapped a picture of them. I knew I was in trouble, and braced myself for a lecture that never came. It took a couple of minutes, but I finally understood why. They would never scold me when I had only a few hours left to live. We talked for a while, about nothing really, and they brought in my three younger siblings, and I snapped a picture of each one of them. Then I hugged and kissed everyone, telling them how much I loved them.

    

      We talked until I started to get drowsy, so they left me alone to get some sleep promising to come back later, promising to say their final good byes. They all believed strongly that they would see me alive one last time. They never did, and they never got the chance to say goodbye. Tow hours before my time was supposed to be up, a horrible beeping filled my room. The monitors keeping track of my pulse, breathing, and whatever else had gotten a major change in their signal. My heart was slowing, my breathing more shallow, and less than five minutes after the beeping started, now accompanied by running footsteps, crying, and the screaming of my mom, I took my last breath, with my last thought being of my family.

© 2011 Dearantlers


Author's Note

Dearantlers
I know it's kinda long, but thanks for reading it. I wrote it for a contest, and I'm not sure if I like it or not, and it's not that great. Any sugestions would be awesome! Thanks. This is revision three. The first revisions weren't as sad. And for the school essyas, I'm in eighth grade.



Featured Review

This exquisitely heartbreaking, yet the gloom that befell Abigail has not left her without any hope. For she ends her life knowing that all relatives, family and friends love Abby and will always remember her for who she truly was. It is a thought I hope to share when my last breath will dance away from my lips. Admiration is more than justified for this story. Keep writing.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

You wrote an amazing piece..You expressed her inner feelings and hopes..

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Dearantlers

7 Years Ago

Thank you so much!
Wow! This was really good! I love it!

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Dearantlers

7 Years Ago

Thank you!
This is so heartbreaking. It really is touching. I loved it. Terrific job, it brought tears to my eyes.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Dearantlers

7 Years Ago

Thank you!
WOW! That was great. Sad, but greatly written.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Dearantlers

7 Years Ago

Thanks!
This exquisitely heartbreaking, yet the gloom that befell Abigail has not left her without any hope. For she ends her life knowing that all relatives, family and friends love Abby and will always remember her for who she truly was. It is a thought I hope to share when my last breath will dance away from my lips. Admiration is more than justified for this story. Keep writing.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Oh gosh haha. You have tears strolling down my face at the moment. This is incredibly sad. Just 14 and having to say-goodbye like that? So sad. At the same time, this was really beautiful though. I'm am really impressed with this piece. I love how you went about it. Such a great write. Well done. :)

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

great work good job

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Awwww, that is so incredibly sad. I loved the way you ended it and how the last line just made it all seem... peaceful in a way.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

my friend you made me cry haha very very good

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

interesting

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


First Page first
Previous Page prev
1
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

348 Views
22 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 5 Libraries
Added on June 26, 2011
Last Updated on September 13, 2011

Author

Dearantlers
Dearantlers

Where unicorns roam wild, dragons soar overhead, and pickles sing



About
I'm either a girl or a boy. I live somewhere. I like to read and write, though I'm sure you figured that one out since I'm on writerscafe. As of when I'm writing this, I'm 8672487 minutes old. Never m.. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


Life's Offer Life's Offer

A Poem by Thea


Prologue Prologue

A Chapter by Lena Rossmore