Constructive Criticism Please?
The eerie silence sent shivers up and down my spine, even the clock ticking sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Just waiting made me nauseas; the sterile white room hurt my eyes. I took a deep breath of the smell of latex gloves flooded my nostrils as I rubbed my sweaty palms off on my shorts. Just a few more minutes and he would be back with the x ray results. My foot shook awkwardly as I watched the seconds click by on the large wall clock. “Calm down Alissa,” my mother’s gravelly voice punctured the silence. No matter what she said I would never forgive her. I looked over at her thin frame of forty-five, but the way her skin sagged made you believe she was much older. A thick coat of bright red lipstick covered her tight lips that were pressed together firmly. She had a fashion magazine in her lap, but her brown eyes were fixed on me. “Everything will be fine,” I could tell she was trying to be positive, which I didn’t need right now. Her eyes rolled back down to the colorful article she was holding, just as she turned the page the door clocked open and in walked the doctor. He was a medium height man with tan skin and dark hair. His eyes were beady and piercing, he somewhat reminds me of a mouse. He sat down on his rolling stool and crossed his legs.
“Well, we have the x-ray results,” he said in monotone. Monotone + doctors = bad news. He quickly stood up and grabbed two black plastic sheets from the manila folder he was holding. Quickly he put them up on the light board on the wall and clicked it on. The plastic lit up and the bones in my arm appeared. They looked perfectly fine, except for the clean break on my wrist, which throbbed almost intolerably. I sighed and looked down at my wrist which looked like it was made of rubber. I loudly swallowed my nausea and looked back up at the X rays. “You have a clean break in your wrist, and we will have to put a pin it for it to heal properly,” his pen clicked and he scribbled something down…..
You may be wondering how I ended up in the hospital with a broken wrist. Well if you want to know the whole story you need to know a little bit about me. First off my name is Alissa Standard; I am fifteen years old and commonly known to be hated by society. Well mostly by Kristen Galloway, the prettiest, model worthy girl at Concourse High School. She is how I ended up in the emergency room exactly three minutes before school ended. Eighth hour I have physical education, or as I like to call it, sweating for no reason. Naturally we had co-ed and we ended up playing woofle ball, it’s a plastic baseball covered in holes. She sprung up to home plate, green plastic bat in hand. I swear I could see her glaring at me right before she hit a homerun. She took off, prancing like a fairy to first base, and then second, oh gosh she was coming near me. Then suddenly…. SMACK! I was lying on the gym floor whimpering in pain. She had fricken knocked me down and stomped on my wrist and made it look like an accident all at the same time. But no, she had to be lying on the floor as well, her knee pulled up to her chest.
About five seconds later I felt someone slide their arms under mine and gently pull me up. I still had my arm cradled in my hand. “SOMEONE HELP KRISTEN UP!” Coach Carter yelled, less than a second later about five guys were at her side. One of them set her upright on her shoes that probably cost more than my car, her knee buckled and she started to fall. But about seven pairs of hands caught her; come to think of it the person who helped me was still holding me steady. I turned to face whoever it was but my voice hitched in my throat. Oh my gosh, it was Carson Peck, I have had a crush on him since the third grade.