Who am I?

Elise suffers from a heart attack on the 21st December 2012 at 11 minutes past 11, people thought she was dead-she was dead- until she came back to life. She remembered nothing. Only her name. Everything had been wiped clean, like the delete button was pressed. But, Elise saw visions- visions which may have told her what the future will look like....


2. 11 minutes past 11- 21st December 2012

    The familiar sound of a heart beat monitor echoed through the halls of the hospital on Dukes-worth street. The sound was coming from my room I was Patient 1071- Elise Duodena. I was only 17. The heart beat monitor only showed a green straight line on the screen, I was another young victim who had been taken away from her family and friends because of thugs who possessed guns on the streets. I had been escorted into hospital by ambulance, I had been shot and I needed ,emergency, surgery straight away. All the way to the operating theatre doors my mum held my hand, tight, never loosening her grip on my ,fragile, hands,she left marks, the marks that handcuffs would  leave once they had pierced into the skin of the man who committed the crime, and brought the curse upon me, me being, an innocent,young, girl. At the time of the attack, the weather was wretched; stormy and wet; stormy and wet; wind, hail and fog. There was ,very, little chance that I would have escaped. My vision was overcast by a shadow; I was hardly able to hear let alone see. Many people know in the ,dark, of the night, when the sun is no longer ,shining, in the sky, that there are very few witnesses touring the streets, of what is a crowded city during the day, and that there is ,very, little chance that this 'thug' will be caught. Therefore justice will not be served.

Crystal, clear, beads of liquid fell ,like a ,waterfall, from my mothers eyes. Slowly, they subsided down her cheeks, which were as hot as lava, then in a ,split, second the saltiness from the tear would reach the corners of her mouth, which were cradled into a frown. Then, they would relieve some of the pain, some of the anger and some of the grief that was roaring inside her. Any parent, whether it be mother or father, would protect their daughter or son. Any parent would kill the person who inflicted ,such, pain upon their loved one, but, maybe,this time I couldn't be saved, maybe it was my time to go.  

My ,brown, eyes could barely be seen, but I felt my mothers presence ,linger, around me. The temperature of my mothers ,warm, hand as it touched my ,delicate,soft, skin escalated down my spine. The anaesthetic was still present in my body; it controlled me like a robot, however, it was slowly wearing thin.  

'Elise I'm going to get a drink, then I'm going to call your father and tell him that you made it through surgery and that your doing just fine. I'll be back soon okay? I'll be back ,very,very, soon I promise. Your my own little warrior you are. My little fighter. Your going to be just fine' 

I felt the pressure of my mum's hand leave my skin. I started turning cold. My temperature was decreasing, rapidly. I desperately tried to grab on to the ,hospital ,bed, sheets to find warmth, but I couldn't stop it. My heart rate slowed down until there was no heart beat there. Doctors and nurses, rushed in colliding with each other, All crowding around my body. Desperately they tried to restart my heart. No luck. Trying a second time. No luck. A third time. No luck. 

The sister nurse of the ward gave a head nod to the doctor.

'Name: Elise Duodena. Age:17 Date: 21st December 2012 Time:11 minutes past 11-dot on' 

The nurse moved her hand over my eyes closing them shut. 'Goodnight Princess' 

'Elise, Elise, Elise! No give her back, give her back, give her back! You can't take her from me, you can't take her from me, you can't take her from me, she was doing fine. She was okay, she was okay.' Desperation had hit my mothers voice. The tone of her voice got doctors questioning her sanity. She collided with the ground. Her knees hit the floor with a thud; it was like pounding a brick onto concrete while constructing a wall ,large,enough, to confine a whole city. She touched my hand one last time before doctors lead her away into the corridors. 

In my mind, lights were flashing like sirens. Noises were ringing like church bells. The sound of peoples cries and the sound of peoples screams filled up the spaces in my head. I could see fire and  people lying on the streets dead. I saw blood. I saw cities being flooded by tidal waves and I heard gun shot after gun shot being fired. A figure of a man held out his hand to welcome me into his arms,to keep me safe. He warned me not to fight back or I would witness things that would be unbearable to watch,but I was my mothers own warrior. I was her fighter. I wasn't ready to go. I was not going to cross over to the other side at the ,young, age of 17. I forced all these thoughts out of my mind and I pushed the man away. I had to gasp for air several times before I realised that I had awoke.

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