LaurenShenkar



__An Underpass of Tragedy__ The moment Ken dreaded had come, Ib was waking up and starting to ask questions. "Ken?" Ib calls, barely above a whisper. She looks scared and confused. He quickly stands up and looks at her. She look pale, even compared to the blinding white walls. The six and one-quater year old little girl is lying in bed, her eyes barely open, obviously terrrified and looking for some sense of familiarity. He hesitates, "What's wrong?" Kenton asks, knowing she's most likely starting to remember what happened earlier that week, after all she hasn't been awake sence. She tells him about how she was in a tunnel, how there were fairies nd how they were playing iwth her. They had never asked her to play before. Ken sits there, listening to the little girl talk, as if it was just a regular dream. He's listening, barely keeping up with her story. Also silently thiunking, do I tell her? Do I let her think it was a dream? What's the best thing to say to a frightened child? Or is it best to say nothing at all? He decides to tell her, assuming it is the better option, ut at the same time, choosing every word cautiously, treading softly. "Wait... but who are they?" Ib asks just as Ken finishes the story. "I guess you could call them you... guardian angels." He replies. "The looked like fairies though!" She starts "Why were we dancing?" I've seen them, but they've never asked me to play before. why did they let me this time?" She's getting confused again. Ken stays silent, how do I explain this? He asks himself. He thinks for a moment, searching his brain for the most delicate words he could find. He stays quiet for a few minutes, looking around the room. How do I explain to a little girl, that what she thought was dancing with fairies, was actually her guardian angels holding her up, getting her to safety? He had thought about it, close to finding the words he was searching for. Suddenly, his thoughts disrupted by his own fear, his head spinning, he had to get out of the room, he needed some fresh air. He's finally outside, every breath he takes feels cold in his lungs, but brings him closer to sanity. Suddenly, the overwhelming amount of guilt he had for leaving Ib, outweighted the need for solitude. He sttod, adjusted his clothes, composed himself and made his was back in the hospital, into the elevator. Though he only had to go to the third floor, the ride up felt like eternity. The door had barely opened when he heard "Code blue!: blaring through the intercom, followed by a room number. He gets out of the elevator and sees the doctors running, a nurse not far behind, pushing a crash cart, down that hallway he had recently left. His heart sinks, his hpace starts to speed up, he's nervous. Why didn't I pay attention to teh room number? He asks himself.