Code Blue
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Madeleine Pearson, Grade 7
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Short Story
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2019
The wind effortlessly passes through my helpless shield of a jumper as I sit in the cold, bleak hospital lounge. To the corner of the room there is a basket filled with forlorn, faded toys that would have once delighted me and in the very center of the lounge is a table stacked with magazines. My stomach grumbles and my eyes beg for sleep.
“ Adeline.” My mother stares at me from the passageway with debilitated eyes.
“ Coming.” I mumble back. I snatch my bag off the ground and follow my mum, dull spiritless souls peer after me. The rest of the hospital smells like the walls have been drowned in disinfectant. My red uniform and crimson hair obtrude in my white- washed surroundings. I shadow my mums movements into the elevator and she presses floor number 5, the children's ward. Colourful birds and animals adorn the hallway enhancing the falsely cheerful feel of the hospital and nurses bustle around with stacks of paperwork. My sister looks minature in her bed, large sacks of black hug her eyelids and her usually energetic body looks pale and fragile, like a porcelain doll. I feel nauesous just looking in the poor state she is in, I desperately need to get out. Suddenly, the monitors background beeping noise turns into a long constant beep. The nurse caring for my sister hurries out to the hallway.
“ Send a code!” She screeches. Over the loudspeaker a calm voice announces a code blue, paediatrics ward, bed 12. I look over at my sisters bed number, in a fine print at the end of her hospital bed reads, 12. I put two and two together as an emergency crew scuttle in with expensive gear. I screech and tears stream down my face as a doctor shoves me out. As the door closes, I catch a glimpse of my horrified mother. The door slams shut, leaving me petrified out of my wits, in the frozen, icy hallway.