Sunday, November 29, 2009

Is this really a good essay it was for school last year and no its not true?

Sarah鈥檚 sky blue eyes looked up into mine. Her curly blonde hair fell over her forehead. I was so mean to her before she died. I thought of that and remembered Ralph Waldo Emerson once saying you can never do a kindness too soon.



鈥淒on鈥檛 you dare tell Mom, or you鈥檙e asking for it!鈥?I slammed the door, then quickly opened it and pulled Sarah in.



鈥淟ook Sarah; I. . . .鈥?br> 鈥淛ust because I鈥檓 seven doesn鈥檛 mean anything because I鈥檓 your sister,鈥?she screamed. Fire shone in her eyes, and suddenly I felt like the seven-year-old.



Guilt flushed over me like the waters of a hurricane. Who did I think I was? This happened every day. Sarah would come in my room and find me listening to bad music, or reading a 鈥渂ad鈥?magazine. She then would tell.



鈥淵ou don鈥檛. . . you can鈥檛!鈥?She fell to the floor. Fear flashed through my head as I looked at my sister lying on the floor.



鈥淧lease don鈥檛 die!鈥?



Mom was at the store. From her cell phone, she frantically told me to call 9-1-1. When the ambulance arrived, Mom was home. She was holding Sarah in her arms, sobbing. Sarah鈥檚 hair fell over her face, and her hands fell off my mom鈥檚 lap. Sarah鈥檚 breath was so quiet that I thought she was dead.



Test after test, and two weeks passed by. Sarah had a brain tumor. She was now living at the hospital. Wires hung everywhere, like the spider webs of a haunted house.



鈥淗ey. How are you?鈥?br> 鈥淥kay, I guess.鈥?She fixed her gaze on the black T.V. screen.



鈥淚t stinks that your birthday is tomorrow. You have to spend it here.鈥?br> 鈥淚t won鈥檛 be that bad.鈥?



鈥淲ell, it鈥檚 late, so I鈥檓 going to Abby鈥檚 house. See you.鈥?As I left I felt a deep void in my heart. Sarah could die, and I was leaving.



I was practically living with Abby because mom and dad were at the hospital. When I found out Madaline was spending the night with Janice, Abby鈥檚 sister, I nearly puked. Having one girl the same age as my sister with me was bad enough. I was angry. My sister was sick in a hospital, and her friends were healthy and alive.



As I walked into Abby鈥檚 house I was clobbered by Madaline and Janice, 鈥淥h, Bailee, we have the perfect idea!鈥?They gushed.



The traffic was horrible. It took almost an hour to get to Brackenridge Hospital. Everyone had the sudden urge to go to work. I looked down at the wrapped present I held in my hand. The box was that ugly bubblegum color, but it was Sarah鈥檚 favorite. Madaline and Janice held a gift bag and bouquet of balloons.



鈥淥ne, Two Three. . . Surprise!鈥?Everyone yelled as we walked into room 249 of Brackenridge Hospital. Sarah looked up at me with big eyes. She mouthed a thank you, (a technique she had learned from me during church services.)



鈥淭hank your friends. It was all their idea.鈥?I smiled and shrugged off the thought. The day was the best I can remember. We cracked jokes about casserole colors, laughed, and had fun. Mom and Dad smiled for the first time since we had taken Sarah to the hospital. The best thing that happened that day was this: Sarah tore away the disgusting wrapping paper, and her eyes widened as she gazed down at her gift. The teddy bear had the same amazing eyes as my sister.



The day died down, and everyone went home. Mom and Dad went home to get some sleep. I asked the doctors if I could stay overnight with my sister. I was allowed to stay, but only for one night.



We spent the night watching Spanish soap operas and playing board games from her party.



鈥淪o what are you going to do if I die?鈥?br> 鈥淒on鈥檛 ever say that again! You aren鈥檛!鈥?I raised my voice a little too loud, and a passing by nurse gave me the look of doom.



鈥淭hanks for being so nice. You changed how I thought about big sisters.鈥?br> The next day we talked about everything鈥攂oys, church, the summer that was almost over, Heaven.



鈥淗ey, go to the cafeteria and get some good food, something better than this,鈥?Sarah said pointing at burnt mashed potatoes.



鈥淭hey make the same food.鈥?br> 鈥淚 meant ice cream, you know, Sni. . .鈥?br> 鈥淪nickers ice cream bar,鈥?I quoted from memory.



The line for food was as long as free tickets to utopia would be. Thirty minutes had passed when I finally got what I wanted.



鈥淏ailee?鈥?A man with glasses as thick as sheep wool stood in front of me, 鈥淚鈥檓 your sister鈥檚 doctor, Dr. James. She told me to tell you that she loves you.鈥?The chair I was sitting in turned to stone. It felt as though there where tiny thorns stabbing into me.



My sister had sent him as a liaison.



鈥淲ait. What鈥檚 wrong with Sarah?鈥?br> 鈥淲e had to do an emergency procedure. Didn鈥檛 you see the sign on her door?鈥?br> 鈥淵es, but I thought you were just checking her pee or something,鈥?my voice was shaking. I remembered hearing that before a car crash everything was in slow motion. My shaky voice was like the brakes going out. The doctor鈥檚 serious face was the headlights from the oncoming car.



Three hours later, Sarah was alive, back in her hospital bed.



鈥淗ey, your ice cream melted.鈥?She smiled, then pointed to her bedside table. The teddy bear had a hospital band on its wrist.



鈥淚t had surgery too,鈥?she whispered with a smiled.



鈥淭ime for rest,鈥?Dr. James said, walking in through the door. I refused to leave my sister, and so the doctor insisted that I make no noise.



Fifteen minutes of her quite cat-purr snoring, and I fell into a deep sleep. An hour later I woke up. Sarah鈥檚 hand was as cold as ice. My heart dropped into my stomach. I franticly leaned over her bed.



鈥淚鈥檓 going to miss you in Heaven. When you get there, I will show you around,鈥?she said. Her breathing was raspy, and her voice was as quiet as the wind blowing, 鈥淚 love you, Bailee.鈥?br> 鈥淚 love you too.鈥?Tears streamed down my face, burning my cheeks like acid. 鈥淚 love you too.鈥?She squeezed my hand, and then let go.



As I looked into Sarah鈥檚 coffin, I vowed to try to always be kind. Sarah is gone, but how many people can I be kind to in this world? The kindness should never be a second



thought. Like Emerson once said, 鈥淵ou never know when it will be too late.鈥?br>Is this really a good essay it was for school last year and no its not true?



Actually, quite good. I urge you to continue writing, maybe take some writing seminars or creative writing classes. You have a gift and need to nurture it.



Is this really a good essay it was for school last year and no its not true?

I thought I was about to cry... It was so amazingly realistic!



Is this really a good essay it was for school last year and no its not true?

IT IS SO GOOD I THINK IT SHOULD BE PUBLISHED IN A HARD COVER EDITION. KEEP WRITING YOU HVE TALENT.



Is this really a good essay it was for school last year and no its not true?

I was very touched by your story. Kindness is a trait that is very often ignored. We live in a hurried and sometimes cruel world, and it is good to hear stories like this--true or not--to remind us to slow down and treat people well. Thanks for giving me my reminder today!



Is this really a good essay it was for school last year and no its not true?

Ever thought about getting into creative writing? I think you have what it takes to become an author ... seriously. I would go to college for creative writing and build your career from there or possibly find a publisher.

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