I think it’s time to post a little more of my coursework … this was the my first assignment, a passage of fiction. I spent a lot of time working on this and it was, pretty much, my first foray into fiction. There’s lots of work to be done but I think maybe, in time, I’ll come back to this and take it further 🙂
So, here goes … enjoy!!!
‘I really need to do something about those bags under my eyes. I look terrible’ thought Lisa as she stared in the mirror. Running the tap she splashed her face with cold water, took a deep breath and prepared for the day ahead.
‘Right kids, time to get up. I’m making breakfast.’ she called. A chorus of groans fading as she went downstairs, the only clue that her voice had been heard.
The smell of burned toast lingered in the air. The twins grumbled, not happy that they were getting up so early. Calum hurled his full bowl of cereal across the room. Looking at the mess, Lisa sighed and turned away, it would have to wait until later. Biting her tongue she got the lunches made, school bags prepared and laid out the twins’ uniforms.
Three miles away Amelia lay patiently in her bed waiting, waiting. If a carer didn’t come into the room soon she knew she would wet herself … again. Footsteps sounded along the corridor, gradually getting louder and closer. Holding her breath Amelia listened, knowing that she couldn’t wait much longer.
Too late. A humiliating warmth spread around Amelia soon cooling into utter discomfort and the acrid smell of urine. ‘Where ARE you?’ she cried in a series of guttural groans.
‘Morning love, how are you today?’ called Kirsty opening the door. ‘Oh dear, Amelia, another accident. Let’s get you sorted out my love. You ought to tell us when you need the toilet. It can’t be nice lying in wet sheets. It’s best to keep your buzzer closer to hand, love.’
Amelia’s eyes flashed. ‘Really? Really? How do you expect me to do that? I can’t move. I can’t even hold a cup. How do you expect me to get a buzzer that YOU left on the other side of the room?’
Unable to interpret the sounds, Kirsty carried on working, hoisting Amelia out of bed to get her washed and dressed before dealing with the soiled bedding.
Amelia’s glare never faltered, speaking volumes but never acknowledged.
No-one was willing today. Lisa’s calm exterior was nearly crumbling by the time she got all three children dressed and ready to go. Calum seemed to sense the tension, aware something wasn’t quite the same as before.
‘Robert, why did you go? Why couldn’t you be here when I need you? Why have I been left to cope alone?’
‘There we go, love. Porridge for breakfast. Open wide.’
‘P-p-please don’t patronise me …’ Try as she might, the words wouldn’t form and tears of frustration formed in her eyes. ‘Why can’t I communicate anymore? I don’t want porridge. I don’t like porridge. I want to choose my own breakfast.’
After a last minute fuss looking for the keys, they left. House locked up, seatbelts fastened, engine on.
‘But why?’ moaned Chloe, the younger of the twins. Chloe always took the lead as if she were making up for the fifteen minutes of life that she’d lost out on to Miya. ‘Why do we have to go to a childminder after school? We don’t know her …’
‘… And we certainly don’t like her’ chimed in Miya.
Grimly gripping the steering wheel Lisa silently counted to ten before answering. ‘It’s just like I told you yesterday, girls. Now that Daddy is in heaven I’ve had to get a job. This is my first day and I need you to be brave for me. Angie is really nice and you did like her when you met her.’
Lost in thought about the day ahead, she drove the baby to Angie’s house and the girls to the school breakfast club.
Putting her hand on the handle Maddy MacLeod paused, ‘Amelia Patrick is one of our more difficult patients. She suffered a stroke three years ago and has been here ever since. She has no communication and tends to be as awkward as she can be. I’m sure that you will learn to manage her’
Lisa bristled at the manager’s tone and walked behind her into the room. Locking eyes with Amelia she saw a depth of sadness, resentment and ire. Gently she walked over, took Amelia’s hand ‘I’m Lisa, I’m pleased to meet you. Do you mind if I sit down? Maybe we can get to know each other.’
Once again, tears filled Amelia’s eyes. She could see Lisa’s compassion and sensed that Lisa saw her as more than a ‘patient’. She felt hope that once more her voice would be heard and her story told.