Creative Writing

“Mom please – wake up”

”Mom please, mom, come on wake up!” but I knew that she would never wake up again. As I remembered how I stood outside the hospital - remembering her crying, a poor girl at seven years old. Her mother was my patient. The last two weeks her cancer had become better. I promised her daughter that she could come home, that I would cure her, so that she this Christmas night could come home and they could celebrate it together. I’m a doctor at the ”eastside hospital” in the poorest part of London. I’m thirty-two years old, I moved here from Italy, when I was twelve. Tonight it’s Christmas eve, my mom and dad died when I was fourteen - so this night means absolute nothing to me! I have no family to visit - so I decided to work tonight, so that the other doctors with families to celebrate this eve with – could get off early. It’s odd, now after leaving I felt bad, an empty feeling. I have been leaving the young poor girl alone sitting in the hospital crying and waiting for someone to take care of her. I was alone all the Christmas nights after my mom and dad leaved me, and since that I have learnt to be alone. She can learn that too. On the way home I went down to the nearest shop, all the way down there I told my self to go come. No one wanted to celebrate Christmas with me, not even to poor girl. I brought a back of candy, Christmas socks and a little raindeer toy. I had never brought a present to any one before. I had brought my first present, and wanted to give it the little girl. So I went back at work, upstairs to the children’s floor. There she was, all alone in the playroom - sleeping at a pink blanket. I opened the door, lay the presents next to her, she didn’t woke up. I looked at her. The blond hair was beautifully put in a plaiting with a red hair bow. She was dirty, and didn’t smell very well. My eyes started to sting. Tears came out, I sat down, hided my head in my hands. A lonely feeling. Suddenly I felt to little hands on mine. “Don’t cry, I’m not dead. I know you would come back. You are my Christmas present from Santa. Please take me home now, I’m so tried”. I will never forget that Christmas eve. Every year when she falls to sleep, I remembered that night. Remembered that Christmas is that time of year were you have to help others – and I’m happy I did!