Waiting...

    Waiting...

I sat slouched in the stiff, outdated chair covered with scratches from the people who sat here before 
me. The chair held me to the harsh stench of freshly bleached floors and disinfectant sprays; it stung my nose. The walls looked to be covered in motivational posters in an attempt to lift the spirits of those waiting. The silence was a gatekeeper for my family and I. It was a silence none of us dared to break. Then came a shrill creak of a door. My parents rushed to them in way like never before. I watched as the doctors swarmed around my parents like school kids. All I could hear from them were faint whispers. When they had finished talking my parents came over to tell me what they'd heard. I looked up at them; never had I been so tense in my movements. To my relief it was news of reassurance not news of agony and pain. My sister of only 6 years old would live another day.