Dancing on a Stage.

I was talking to my sister, about to fall asleep. My sister then abruptly left, leaving me alone. Pigs and donkey pictures were all around. I winced. Before you ask, I HATE pigs and donkeys. I much prefer horses and bunnies. I groaned as, for the a thousandth time, I bent my aching back to pick up another balloon from the party, ten minutes before. I had one more balloon to go then I would finish this unbearable task. Closing my eyes I finished my job. I stretched and massaged every bit of my body, my thighs screaming at me from the running around, trying to stop the toddlers to run across the road. But I just ignored that pain and walked right onto the stage. Picking up my phone from the table, I checked it’s percentage, one hundred percent. I chose my favourite pop and turned the volume up ‘till it couldn’t go any higher. I walked like a homeless person seeing the queens crown and walking to it. When I got to the centre I started dancing. I danced and danced, that I didn’t see a crowd of people come in to see what the loud music was for. Unfortunately for me, I was also dancing so crazily that I didn’t see that I was nearing the edge of the stage. It was the last straw I took one enormous step, to do a amazing dance move, but instead fell of. It was quite a tall stage too, about six metres high. I screamed, but it was too late for I tumbled to the ground, wishing I could in all this and start again. I would do the painstaking task of picking up the balloons for the whole day, just don’t let this happen to me! But as everyone knows, you can’t change what’s happened. 

I woke up dazed and tired. I looked around I wasn’t at my house. It took me a few minutes to remember what had happened before she came here. But she wasn’t at The Great Hall Party Room either. “Where am I? I asked, sitting up. I immediately slumped back into my bed? My scalp throbbed and I couln’t move my arms. My mum came into my blurred vision. “You are in the hospital, young lady.” She said, she only says young lady when she’s mad at me, but she said it gently to me this minute, I guess it’s ‘cause I’m in the hospital. I wanted to ask more but before I could, I saw dots in my vision and my eyes began to close. I had blacked out again.

I woke up to a nurse sitting next to me mixing some ingredients together to make (I guess) herbal tea. Everyone knows that herbal tea is good when you have a fever. Anyway she stood from her chair and picked up a cloth. Only when she put the cloth on me, did I realize that the cloth had water on it. I winced and pain etched on my face. The nurse was trying to be as gentle as possible, but it wasn’t gentle enough. I broke out into a sweat and tears clouded my vision. Just when I thought I was going to die from pain, the nurse stopped and scooped up her herbal tea, cupping it at my lips. I took a tiny sip and stopped. This drink was the best. I slurped away, while the nurse just looked at me, her eyebrows furrowing. “How do you feel Miss?” She asked, trying to be as polite as possible. I too, wanted to be polite, but the pain was to intense that I shot back, “Terrible,” I sounded grouchy and mean, but who wouldn’t if they were in a condition like me? The nurse sniffed and I knew I had hurt her feelings. Then all of a sudden I fell unconscious. This routine went on for months ‘till one day I was sent out of the hospital. I felt much better, and thanked my nurse endlessly. She was stunned. On the way home, my mum said, “Glad you could make it Giselle,” and those words warmed my heart.

And that, boys and girls, is why you should always look where your going .

The End.