WRITING PROMPT NO. 177
The electric charge in her brain sent every synapse into overdrive.
She felt something twitch in her fingertips, but nothing in her legs or body. Her disappointment radiated around the room. Her mother bent towards her tucking a loose thread of hair behind her right ear.
“Remember, this is just the first try,” she said.
Pain gnawed inside her skull, pushing behind her eyes. She wanted to bang her head against a wall. All she could do was squeeze her eyes shut, open her mouth and scream. Yet no sound came out. Her lungs weren’t her own. A machine was helping her breath, sucking in, whooshing out.
She moved her eyes above her and counted the lights embedded in the ceiling. She stared hard at the brightness until her eyes began to water and tears trickled down both sides of her nose. Her mother slipped a tissue out from her sleeve and dabbed at her face. She didn’t want her to. This was all her body could do right now. Making tears was the only thing within her control.
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” said the doctor patting the end of the bed and handing her chart to a nurse. She wanted to kick it out of her hand. She wanted to see the shock as it clattered to the floor, surprise etched on all the faces in the room.
But all that happened was the doctor left. And then the nurse. And her mother stared at her and patted her hand.
Feeling brave? Want to share your story? In the words of one Disney princess, Let it go, in the comments below.