Emma’s Story

Good evening, Munchkins. Again, sorry for being early/late how ever you want to see it.

I thought I’d upload this short story I did for an assessment at school because I’m proud of it and my English teacher is really happy with it. Can I just say now, it made her cry and it is sad so if you’re feeling a bit ‘sensitive’ as she said or in my language ‘meh’ then maybe come back and read it another day. Writing it was sad but not enough to make me cry, so it might just be my teacher. For some reason I feel like I shouldn’t upload for like copyright reasons but it’s my story, so yeah. 

It’s about a Cancer patient as I also thought because of Stephen Sutton dying yesterday morning it could be a sort of tribute to him. It’s weird, I’ve had relatives die of Cancer when I was younger and I’ve known people to die when I’m older but this is in no way a real-life sympathy-seeker type of story. This is just how I interpreted it and sorry if you’ve been in this situation and haven’t given it the right amount of justice. OK, so here we go. Also, I’ll write in Italics so it’s easier to tell the difference. 

I remember Emma’s first hospital appointment after she noticed something wasn’t right. I was only 11, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew being sent to the local hospital after a fairly ‘normal’ doctor’s appointment wasn’t normal as our parents had said to keep her from worrying.  

We all went to that appointment: Mum, Dad, Emma and me. I was counting all the signs in my head as to what might happen, and nothing good ever came to mind. 

The word ‘Cancer’ can mean many different things: the star sign, the Tropic of Cancer etc, but hearing it do describe your fun and healthy 14-year-old sister isn’t something you hear everyday.

I still remember her laughter, her long, dark hair cascading down her back, the way she could be my sister and life was never a chore. 

When the doctor’s told us the whole world just flipped. Mum and Emma had started crying, Dad was biting his lip and holding Mum’s hand for support and I just sat there, already feeling grief and loss. Among the sobs and the pain in my chest I heard the words I’ve hated ever since: ‘we’ll do all we can’.

18 Months Later

Emma had started her chemotherapy only a months after we had been given the news and she’d been having regular scans every few weeks. At first we tried to live our lives normally, but we soon saw that would never happen again.

She was due for a scan that summer afternoon, and so far it hadn’t really changed. 

As soon as we entered the sterile building, we took the lift to floor 3 and onto room 214 as we had for nearly a year and a half now.

We met with the doctor’s who spoke to my parents about the importance of the scans while a nurse took Emma for the scan. When they come back, Emma’s face is paler than normal, and tears are threatening to spill. The doctor’s can’t do anything and we all know it. The pain in my chest is back. 

The doctor squints his eyes at the pictures, his hard, cold, uncaring eyes. The anger builds up inside me. This can’t be happening. He opens his lips to talk, but I know exactly what he’s going to say. His thin, hating lips say the words though they don’t reach my ears. He’s a liar, he’s the person that won’t let my sister live. I know they say not all heroes wear capes, but not all villains are trying to ruin the world. It’s just mine he’s ruining.

She died a month later with nothing left behind. It was as if she never existed. My sister existed though, and always will. The only difference is now she owns a pair of wings and doesn’t live with us now. But she’s still my sister.

Sorry, if it made you cry, but all the links are below and thank you for reading,

Rachel xx


Email Me: rachelkate01@yahoo.co.uk

Last blog: https://rachelkate01.wordpress.com/2014/05/12/liebster-award-2014/

‘The Affects of Cancer’ blog: https://rachelkate01.wordpress.com/2014/05/04/the-affects-of-cancer/

Stephen Sutton FaceBook Page: https://www.facebook.com/StephensStory



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