The Sickness And The Battle Ends

• Amila Dedovic, Grade 7, Ingle Farm Primary School
• Short Story
• 2011

Excellence Award in the 'Step Write Up 2011' competition

Car headlights. That's all fourteen year old Allie Remington could see as well as the faint sound of the radio. With her father, Marcel, on the steering wheel driving her to a doctor. She didn't know how she managed to get in the car, maybe she was carried, the only thing she remembers is falling to the ground and losing complete control of her body. She felt numb... and weak, she slowly looked down and saw a bucket. Why was it there? Had she vomited? She didn't have a clue. All she knew was that she was sick and that she needed help fast. She flickered her eyes at the intense light in front of her, once her eyes adjusted she noticed they had arrived at a hospital, she didn't know which hospital but she felt relived. Her father opened the car door and gently picked her up. The second they entered the hospital, she could smell the strong scent of horrible cafeteria food and disinfectant. The tension in Allie's body reduced, knowing she was somewhere safe gave her some reassurance. Her father laid her on a table and she felt the rush of her blood increased as a cold hand from a doctor gently touched her. Then Allie felt a small pinch, she looked over to her right arm, there was needle and deep red blood within its clear tube. Her blood had been taken and she had now felt weaker than she had before
Several days had passed and the results from the hospital her father had taken her to still hadn't arrived. Women's and Children's Hospital was the name of where her father had taken her. She was extremely lucky, having a father liked him. Her mother, Anita, used to work as a teacher, when a school fire struck, she had died saving a four year old boy. It happened when Allie was hardly two but with that story Allie knew her mother must of been an amazing woman.
Two weeks after the alarming visited to the hospital the results had arrived in the Remington's maibox. Anxious, Allie opened the letter with her father standing right next to her in the front yard squeezing her hand. She had Acute leukaemia. She felt her eyes building up tears, but she held them back, she needed to be strong or at least she wanted to be. It said in the letter that it was getting worse and that she would need to undergo chemotherapy.
After a treacherous month the chemotherapy treatment was over. Allie had lost her hair through the battle of leukaemia but she had lived. That's all that mattered to her. The pain, the weakness, the numbness, the vomiting. It was all over. Life hadn't felt so sweet knowing that she could of lost the battle, but when they released her from the hospital and she arrived home. The first thing she did was go to her comfortable bed and sleep. When she woke up, she took a big breath of air, a bigh breath of life.