Despondency
The bitterly cold air is blasting into my face and the rain is clattering down onto my skin like thousands of bullets being shot at once. As Arthur and I dash through Deauville Avenue, goose bumps start racing on my limbs. My plump lips are turning blue like an afternoon sky. Inelegantly, I fall through the doors of a petite boutique determined to find something to keep me snug and warm. I catch a glimpse of a sleek, smooth, silky scarf. Flabbergasted, I stand in awe…Wow! Instantaneously, I fall in love. Arthur Boy is refusing to purchase me the marvellous, sleek, silky scarf, which will be the answer to all my dreams. He offers me his jersey sweater. I start saying that I should not have to wear his soaking wet sweater to keep me warm! He is asking me for a divorce because I ask for too much. What did I do to deserve this misery and wretchedness? My heart is a piece of thin, crisp, glass and it is shattering right inside me, making me feel every razor sharp bit of my soul piercing into my skin and disappearing into oblivion. Words are not capable of describing my attachment, endearment and love to Arthur. Wednesday 24th August, 2pm in the afternoon and I am still laying here in my astonishingly soft bed, moping and longing for love. My telephone bell rings, the sound is almost deafening. I pick up the receiver from the hook, loitering around the fact that I have to exchange dialog to someone. It is my good friend Savannah Molint. Even though the sound is fuzzy, I can hear her excitement, her voice is electrified. She sounds like she is intoxicated in a life of joy and cheerfulness. Savannah is pregnant! All that is racing through my mind is the fact that she is having a child like I intended with Arthur. I feel a tear descending down my face. Maybe I am crying to cleanse the depth of pain gathered up inside of me. I put the receiver of the telephone down. I feel as if my voice box has been put into a little dark crate, locked with a key, thrown into the ocean and never allowing my voice to be heard again. I’m back in my penthouse; my bones seem to be playing up causing me discomfort. I look down to the floor… drip drop drip drop. Blood is gushing out of my nose, soaking into my pure as white carpet. The blood is looking like a glass …show more content…
I try to stand up, but it is not working they are holding me down I start yelling, trying to push my way out of everything. They manage to calm me down. The doctors are explaining why this occurred and what they did to stop it. I have had a minor procedure, clustering the blood vessel in my nose, this was done by them using silver nitrate.
I have Acute Lymphocytic Leukaemia.
Paralysed with terror, I have to undergo chemotherapy. In addition to all of this, I may loose my hair. Since my beautiful shiny, silky and sleek hair will be disappearing into the depth of nowhere, I will have to use a wig!
Back at the doctors, they have some news. Struggling with my breath, I walk into the doctors room, complete silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop through a web of dust. They break the news. Tears drop down my white as snow face; I may never even need to wear a wig in the end.
5 months till I
The bitterly cold air is blasting into my face and the rain is clattering down onto my skin like thousands of bullets being shot at once. As Arthur and I dash through Deauville Avenue, goose bumps start racing on my limbs. My plump lips are turning blue like an afternoon sky. Inelegantly, I fall through the doors of a petite boutique determined to find something to keep me snug and warm. I catch a glimpse of a sleek, smooth, silky scarf. Flabbergasted, I stand in awe…Wow! Instantaneously, I fall in love. Arthur Boy is refusing to purchase me the marvellous, sleek, silky scarf, which will be the answer to all my dreams. He offers me his jersey sweater. I start saying that I should not have to wear his soaking wet sweater to keep me warm! He is asking me for a divorce because I ask for too much. What did I do to deserve this misery and wretchedness? My heart is a piece of thin, crisp, glass and it is shattering right inside me, making me feel every razor sharp bit of my soul piercing into my skin and disappearing into oblivion. Words are not capable of describing my attachment, endearment and love to Arthur. Wednesday 24th August, 2pm in the afternoon and I am still laying here in my astonishingly soft bed, moping and longing for love. My telephone bell rings, the sound is almost deafening. I pick up the receiver from the hook, loitering around the fact that I have to exchange dialog to someone. It is my good friend Savannah Molint. Even though the sound is fuzzy, I can hear her excitement, her voice is electrified. She sounds like she is intoxicated in a life of joy and cheerfulness. Savannah is pregnant! All that is racing through my mind is the fact that she is having a child like I intended with Arthur. I feel a tear descending down my face. Maybe I am crying to cleanse the depth of pain gathered up inside of me. I put the receiver of the telephone down. I feel as if my voice box has been put into a little dark crate, locked with a key, thrown into the ocean and never allowing my voice to be heard again. I’m back in my penthouse; my bones seem to be playing up causing me discomfort. I look down to the floor… drip drop drip drop. Blood is gushing out of my nose, soaking into my pure as white carpet. The blood is looking like a glass …show more content…
I try to stand up, but it is not working they are holding me down I start yelling, trying to push my way out of everything. They manage to calm me down. The doctors are explaining why this occurred and what they did to stop it. I have had a minor procedure, clustering the blood vessel in my nose, this was done by them using silver nitrate.
I have Acute Lymphocytic Leukaemia.
Paralysed with terror, I have to undergo chemotherapy. In addition to all of this, I may loose my hair. Since my beautiful shiny, silky and sleek hair will be disappearing into the depth of nowhere, I will have to use a wig!
Back at the doctors, they have some news. Struggling with my breath, I walk into the doctors room, complete silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop through a web of dust. They break the news. Tears drop down my white as snow face; I may never even need to wear a wig in the end.
5 months till I