Liz's POV to my story "Personality and Attitude." If you haven't read "P &A" you might want to b/c you don't know who Liz is.
To C8-H10-N4-O2 for reviewing "personality and attitude" and giving me this idea.
This is my 1st story to be in the POV of one person the whole time....so tell me what you think and suggestions on how to make it better...stuff like that...THANKS A BUNCH!
Chapter 1- The past is in the past
Hospitals. With their boring white walls and lifeless features. Not everyone died there. People are born there too. Maybe they could add some color somewhere. That's what they need. "Extreme Makeover: Hospital Edition" or "Trading Hospitals". That's all I can remember from sitting there in that wait room with the little kid toys, old old magazines, and the paintings. No wonder people died there. They got bored to death looking at everything. It's quite sad that's all I can remember from the day. Well it's not all I remember. Sitting in the hospital bed by my mom saying good-bye. I'll never forget that. With my dad and some aunts and uncles sitting around her kissing her and telling her that they loved her and all I could manage to say was "mommy, can we go home now?". Now granted, I was 5, and didn't really get the whole life/death situation yet. And as my mom left this world, crying loved ones around her, I was bawling my eyes out. Not that my mother just died but that I need to go home. Barney was gonna be on soon. I would give anything to have that moment back. But what are you gonna do?
Flash to a year ago. I was going through my father's room, sorting it all out thinking "How was I supposed to know what's important to him? It's his stuff. This is so unreal. It isn't happening. Why did he think we couldn't take life anymore and decided to end it and leave me here alone by myself?"
"Do you need any help?"
My aunt. It's all a blur because I found the picture. The 3 of us. Disneyland. My mom said she saved up my whole life to take me and that we were going to get our picture taken. So we got one of those professional pictures that cost like $50. My dad was sitting there, cussing his way through it. He hated having his picture taken. He'd much rather be behind the camera taking the picture. You could tell that in the picture, the way his face is all squished together. I'm keeping this.
Now I'm sitting here going into the 12th hour in this van. About an hour after I found the picture and couldn't stop staring at it, my aunt forced me out of dad's room. She took care of everything needing care. The house, my mom and dad's stuff, my packing, the funeral, everything. I was so glad she did. I'm 14 I can't be dealing with all that stuff. The paperwork, and all the people you have to talk to and then you tell them what happened they all say the same thing-"I'm sorry for your loss." I mean it's a nice thing to say, don't get me wrong. But it's all are you really sorry? You don't know me or anything about me. How could you possibly understand my loss? It's all really beyond me.
So you think it would be hard leaving a town you've lived in all your life but it wasn't. It was actually the best thing about this whole situation. I didn't have many friends there. It was a small town so the 'cliques' were in full force. Moving gives me a chance to live, breathe again. A new town where nobody knew me. They don't learn all my burdens and battles I've been through until I felt like telling them. Maryland, here I come.