If you have clicked on this story, it either means you are way too curious, or you are one of us. Then again, I have too much curiosity too. Know that once you scroll down, there is no going back. You can't just walk away and forget about it, because the memories and dreams will haunt you. So be ready for the journey ahead. Because it is going to be a tough one. Anyone that isn't ready, go ahead and click out of this page.The rest of you, take a deep breath and scroll down.
I woke up in a hospital. I was on a white cotton bed, with an IV strapped to my arm. I wasn't wearing my original clothes. I was wearing a white, soft t-shirt with little teddy bears on it and long, blue pants. I yawned and sat up. Everyone was wearing masks around me, except me. I heard the doctor whispering to my parents. “We have already taken several tests. She's not on drugs, she doesn't have any diseases. We haven't put her through an MRI yet, because we didn't want to move her.” said one man in a long, white coat. I was in my worst nightmare. Being at a hospital scares me because it makes me feel like I'm going to die. Or get cancer. Or something. Then, I saw the worst thing in my nightmare. It was one of those things that tracks your heart rate with a “Beep. Beep. Beep.” I immediately started to freak out. “Stop that thing! Please!” My heart rate spiked, probably due to the fear I was feeling. Everyone in the room turned to look at me, and I pointed to the machine. “Deattatch it. Please.” “Why?” My mom asked, in a soft voice. “It scares me,” I said my voice barely above a whisper. “There aren't many things that scare me, but hospitals and that thing do.” I pointed to the heart rate tracker again. “Why does it scare you?” Asked a nurse. I shuddered. “Too many movies and books with people that die in hospitals. And that thing is always a part of it.” I tried to calm down, but I couldn't. “We'll turn it off,” she said and turned the monitor off. The relief that fled through my body was indescribable. Maybe you've felt it before. I was still twitchy, ready to jump, but at the same time, I was tired as (Insert swear word of your choice here). “We are going to put you through an MRI, okay?” asked one doctor, and I nodded. They rolled me into a big room with a long machine in it. It was white and had all sorts of warnings and violent pictures on it that scared me. They explained what to do in the MRI, what they were going to collect, and how long it would take. It felt like forever in the scary machine. After, they told me it only took half an hour. But for me, it felt like years. I was more nervous and scared than ever. If I had cancer, I don't know what I would do. They scanned the front and back of me, and the doctors said it would be a few minutes before we got the results. I got in my cot, and shook with fear, waiting for the results. I had so many things on my mind, it felt like a scrambled egg. When the nurse finally came in with the results, she looked sad. I almost started to cry. “The results for cancer came back... “ Then she smiled. “Negative!” she said, and I screamed with excitement. I jumped off the bed, hugged the nurse, and my parents, and then I finally just crawled back into the cot. I smiled under the covers, feeling content. I heard my parents and the doctors talking about what else it could be, but I ignored them. For now, I was okay.
