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Her hands were shaking like an earthquake was happening under her skin. The very idea of what she is going to encounter after a fleeting time was making her feel nauseous. Even her tiniest cell was fluttering with the thought of what she is about to see. She never imagined him to end up here one day. She trembled and gazed towards the leaky white ceiling. She wasn't comfortable on the faux leather chair she was sitting. She tried to breathe, but her lungs were in pain, and every single breath she was inhaling felt like a thorn, hurting her heart. When she heard Amelia's trembling naive voice, she wasn't able to keep her tears and stared at the young girl with wet eyes. "Nobody came yet?" Amelia asked. She shook her head and stood up. She wasn't feeling her legs and wobbled when she tried to walk. Amelia attacked to grab her arm to support her, but she didn't accept the help. "Isabelle?" Amelia whispered. She didn't even hear Amelia's voice. Her body was there, standing in the middle of a hallway, but her soul was lost in the depths of a wild forest. It was being gravitated into a swamp and drowning in it. She suddenly regained consciousness and saw the hospital attendant in his green clothes. He was getting closer and closer to her and Amelia. His sick-green uniform was reminding death and pain to Isabelle. She remembered her days back in this place, the suffering and the anguish; the people who never showed up when she wanted them to be there for her, to grab her hand saying everything will be fine. Now she was here for one of those people who trifled her pain and did nothing. She didn't even know why she was doing this for such a reckless person like him. Her heart was frightened with the harrowing thought of going away, disappearing. Just like that, puff.

"Isabelle Hayes?" the hospital attendant asked her with a neglectful attitude. "Yes, it is her," Amelia answered the man kindly. "We have been informed that the work is not finished yet. Unfortunately, you will have to wait a little longer. You can drink some coffee in the cafeteria while waiting if you want to." He seemed to have done this job over and over again and so bored of it, he was neither indulgent nor courteous anymore. She glanced coldly to Amelia and decided to go to the cafeteria. She wanted to see some other people. When she was around new faces, she always felt more comfortable because they never knew who she was, what her flaws and faults were. When she was with strangers, she was like a clean paper that no one has ever scratched on it. "Let's go," Amelia said timidly. Isabelle nodded, and they walked along the hallway side by side. "Did you have breakfast this morning?" Amelia asked. She didn't respond to her question, so Amelia took it as a no. They climbed the stairs silently. They sat at a random table in the cafeteria. After a little while, Amelia took her purse and disappeared. Isabelle pulled the sketchbook out of her small backpack and started drawing something on it. The thoughts were giving her a headache. She was pushing down the pencil to the paper too roughly, there were some holes in it. When Amelia returned with a tray in her hands, she was nearly done with the drawing of the kid which was sitting at the corner of the cafeteria. Amelia sat down and pushed the tray to the middle of the table. There were two cups of coffee and a french toast in it. "I am not gonna eat anything," Isabelle said shortly. Amelia stared at her face for a minute and said, "It has no good to anyone. Mom said that you didn't eat anything for days." Isabelle looked at her with empty eyes. "Why do you care?" she asked. "Because I am your sister, Bella. Because I love you. Even the fact that you hate me is very clear, that doesn't mean I am gonna stop thinking about you magically." Amelia answered. Her voice was full of sorrow. "I don't hate you," Isabelle responded, realizing how badly she was treating her sister. "I am just bored of waiting."

"Then eat your toast," Amelia said cheerfully. It was the nicest sentence Isabelle has ever said to her for months. I don't hate you, she repeated silently. Isabelle grabbed her toast and had a bite of it without any expression in her face. She was watching the kid she drew. "Mom I wanna see my dad!" the kid yelled at her middle-aged mother. I wanna see my dad too, Isabelle said from inside. She was feeling a lot better than before, but she knew that she'll have to go there again, and that was making her feel anxious. She sipped her coffee, but it was too hot. "Do you think..." Amelia tried to ask. She inhaled and completed her sentence, "Do you think that is dad?"

"I don't know, Amelia, and I am not sure if I want to find out," Isabella said. "What are we going to do, you know, if it is him?" Amelia asked again. Isabelle hated that her sister was never shut her mouth up. "We will do what we have to do." After that, Amelia didn't talk again. They sat there for like half an hour with the fear of the unknown. There was no range of time that could ever make them feel ready for this. The time they finished their coffee, they stood up like it was set up before and walked down the stairs. "You are not allowed to come inside," Isabelle whispered when they came to the same hallway. "Why?" Amelia asked with a deprecating tone. "You are not old enough to see this," Isabelle answered her sister. "But I am sixteen." Amelia objected.

"Yes, Amelia. You are sixteen, and I am going to identify a dead body that was murdered savagely, and also it might be our dad. I seriously don't want this man to give you another trauma." Isabelle answered with a precise voice. Before the hospital attendant let her in, she saw the tears in her sister's eyes, dripping down to her cheeks. She walked into the morgue and shivered with the deadly cold kiss of the freezing air. The attendant closed the door behind her, leaving her alone. After a minute or two, the forensic doctor came, and he compassionately smiled at her. "Are you ready to see him?" he asked. She nodded without a word. She wasn't ready, and she knew she will never be. The doctor wore his gloves and opened one of the compartments. When he pulled the metal partition, she saw him. His dad was laying there, his face was deadly white, and his lips weren't pink anymore. All of the blood in his body just withdrew. His face was smashed and hard to recognize but his eyes were giving her the biggest hint. They were sky blue once. Maybe he wasn't a lovely man, and yes, he always gave the stick to his children, but no one deserves to see their dad's dead body. "This is him," she said. In an eye blink, he was gone. Just like that, puff.

July 10, 2020 14:40

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9 comments

Cheri Jalbert
16:59 Jul 16, 2020

Hi, I really enjoyed reading this. There was a lot of subtly in the way it was written, hooking the reader. Your descriptions are good and helped push the story forward. For advice, I would recommend trying reading your work out loud. It will help with some of the grammar and tense issues. Breaking up the paragraphs might move the story forward also. Nice job!

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18:12 Jul 16, 2020

thank you so much for your lovely comment!! i am a foreigner and i am still trying to improve my writing skills. i'll totally take your advice and i appreciate it so much!! ❤️❤️

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Safia Ismail
11:17 Jul 16, 2020

Hii... i liked your story. I kept on reading to find out the person for whom isabelle was waiting. The death of her father makes the story mysterious, makes me wonder about the reason for the murder.

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18:14 Jul 16, 2020

thank you very very much it is so nice of you to say that. even i don't know what was the reason behind the murder :) but your comment made me so happy ❤️❤️

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J Lindsay
03:51 Jul 16, 2020

Hi there, really liked the ideas you were playing with here, and how we didn't know not just what we were waiting for, but where we were waiting until quite late on. If you're after slightly critical feedback, I would just be a little careful with tenses and pronouns, the tense changes early and there's a point where Isabelle becomes a 'his'. Just could benefit from some closer proof reading but otherwise, really good!

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18:18 Jul 16, 2020

thank you very much for your kind, improving comment. i'll be extra careful about tenses and pronouns next time. english isn't my mother language and i am still learning. thanks for pointing it out ❤️❤️

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J Lindsay
23:35 Jul 16, 2020

Even more impressive then! Don't worry, they're just small things

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18:28 Jul 16, 2020

even though i've read it for like a hundred times, i still can't see where i mispronounced Isabelle and said 'him' instead. i think the sentence was complicated. can you tell me where it is??

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J Lindsay
23:37 Jul 16, 2020

Yeah towards the end of the story: 'His dad was laying there, his face was deadly white, and his lips weren't pink anymore.' First his should be a her, I believe?

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