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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1573326-An-experiment-in-short-storiesNEW
by Shelly
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1573326
I NEED your $0.02 Opinions/advice needed
Ok... real quick... let me set this up for you. I'm trying my hand at short stories. I've kind of developed a plot*Idea* . My two main characters unknowingly affect each others lives through  a series of events.....  I have finally started the second character. My goal is to be very detailed with very few words so i need opinions on that. My other goal is for this, which I intend on opening with, to be enough to catch the readers interest.  Let me know what you think! Thanks a bunch! PS Readers who have been following can move down to (2) nothing in (1) has been changed.
*Heart*Shelly 

                                                        1
      Her fingertips brushed along the edges of the bright orange flower that stood alone amongst the thin, wispy blades of rich green grass. As Abbey began to think how strange the brightness of the flower was; her thoughts were interrupted by the laughter of a child. She looked up to see her daughter standing a few feet away. The way the sun hit her amber hair it appeared as if there was a halo framing her head and face and Abbey smiled. Her hair was so long, but how? The child pointed to a blue and purple butterfly that fluttered near by and prompted her mother to join her. Upon standing, Abbey noticed the colors of the butterfly were like that of the flower; very bright, almost glowing. As she approached the child she was startled to realize that the butterfly had turned a deep red. The young girl seemed not to notice and began to chase it.

    “Sara……” Abbey yelled, but the girl continued, focused on her potential catch.

    The faster Abbey ran; the further away Sara and the butterfly seemed to get. She screamed the girl’s name over and over with no result. Her heart pounded in her head and sweat began to drip from her hair and down her back. Abbey’s stomach flipped as she watched her daughter nearing the road that winds along the edge of the field. No longer able to see the butterfly it seemed as if the girl was chasing nothing, oblivious to the box truck barreling down the road. Abbey tried to scream again, but her lungs burned from running. She stumbled and fell; arms reaching out as Sara and the truck met at the same point in the road. She pulled her face from the grass to see the mangled mess of her daughter. A man stepped from the truck.

    “Ma’am… Ma’am….” He shouted.

    The shouts faded into the gentle voice of the nurse.

    “Ma’am…. We’re finished, you can go back in now,” She said simply, gently, and with warmth in her old, blue eyes that made Abbey feel better.

    “I wasn’t drooling was I?” Abbey smiled up at her faintly as she sat upright and wiped the sleep from her eyes.

    “No,” she chuckled.

    The doctor emerged from behind the nurse.

    “Sara’s doing fine a bit tired from the treatment, but anxious to see you.”
Abbey nodded still shaking off the last of the dream.

    “This is my last round. Dr. ----- will be in soon. We’ll see you tomorrow Abbey,” he said and touched her shoulder gently before walking away.

    There are ten doctors that work the pediatric cancer unit at the hospital and though it was overwhelming at first; Abbey had gotten to know them all well in the last three months. She stood, stretched, and crossed the hall. She reached for the door marked Allen and gently pushed it open.

    “Hi Mommy,” Sara said in a tiny voice, smiling.

    “Hi Princess,” Abbey whispered and she shut the door behind her.




                                                            2

    He looked down at the two wire baskets that topped the corner of his desk. One marked “in” which was overflowing now and one marked “out”. “Out” hadn’t seen a resident for quite some time and he wondered how much longer he would even have a house, with a dining room, to put the desk, which holds the wire basket with so many unpaid bills. Alongside the wire basket however; sat his relief. He snatched up the clear orange bottle and pressed down on the white top. Tilting the bottle on its side he peered inside as if an answer would spring forth from the bottom. He emptied three into his hand and hesitated for a moment. The doctor had stopped giving him these a long time ago and since then it had gotten expensive. He had gone from pennies a dose to fifteen sometimes twenty dollars. He took them anyway. As he walked to the kitchen he heard his phone sing obnoxiously from his jacket pocket and ignored it. He yanked opened the freezer revealing it’s only contents; pulling it out he reached for a glass.

         Again, his phone chimed from his coat, a message. Part of him was curious; most of him was being consumed by the euphoric feeling that followed shortly after opening that little orange bottle. It never lasted long enough. Almost robotically he flipped open the phone and dialed into voicemail.

         “Jimmy, it’s Nate… look I know this isn’t what you wanna hear…. But, as your legal counsel… Jimmy, Katey’s insurance doesn’t cover even half the expenses. They want the house and unless we come up with something…. You gotta pull outta this and let me…. Look Jim she’s gone and unless you let me help they’re going to make this worse on you than you desrv……”

         The phone split in two when it hit the wall.

         Unsure how he got there Jimmy was on the edge of his bed, head in hands. Why would they be coming for him? They knew him well and knew he loved her, loved them. Metal grinding rocked his head. His back ached, but he was unsure if it was real or induced. The smell of burnt rubber fills the room.  Sirens scream as footsteps hit the pavement and he’s swept away. Bright lights washover his blurred vision. Pain shoots continuously through his legs, back, and head. A pretty nurse with dark hair poked him with something that made him feel fuzzy, like he was dreaming. She smiled down at him sympathetically, but didn’t say a word. One curtain over a little girls cries as a woman speaks to the nurse.

         “I don’t understand, she broke it almost nine weeks ago! Why is she still in pain and not healing?” she asked sounding baffled and concerned.

         “We’re running tests on the blood we drew now. The doct….”

         “Miss Allen?” The doctor cut the nurse off. “Can you and Sara join me in my office?” he asked.

         The woman’s voice had reminded him of his wife’s. Katey! Oh god! The baby, was he with us? They were arguing, it’s all he can remember. Having a hard time distinguishing reality from this dreamlike state Jimmy tried turning his head to seek answers, but couldn’t move.

         Hearing his and his wife’s voices on the answering machine downstairs snapped him back to reality. Three months and still so vivid; some parts. He stood to seek out his glass.

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