Sample Creative Writing On Story
“Can you cough again please, sir?” the doctor asked.
Her father attempted a slow wheeze as the doctor held a gentle hand up to his back, cupping the cold metal against his skin in an attempt to hear his heart beat. How long were these tests going to take? How long had they been coming here? It felt like they had been here an eternity.
Her father gave a sharp gasp. He was really coughing now.
“Are you okay dad?” she asked, rushing forward to offer him some water.
Still coughing, he nodded his head and leaned back on the bed, slowly taking the water from her. “Like a Sunday afternoon,” he finally said quietly.
She smiled, a smile equally as feeble as his cough. Her once strong father, now withered in this bed. The world was unjust.
The doctor cleared his throat softly from the door in an effort to get her attention. She squeezed her father’s hand softly. “I’ll be right back, dad.”
Slowly she walked outside, fearing the worst. “How bad is it?”
“Its hard to tell without the proper equipment. His lungs sound like he’s breathing through cheesecloth though, so we know its gotten that far.”
He glanced at her quickly, gauging her reaction. She was trying to hide her sadness, the immense pool of fear and emotion that immediately threatened to swallow her whole. He could lie to her and protect her from it, or tell her the truth. He supposed the true act of love was telling her the truth.
“There’s really nothing-“
“I know,” she said, cutting him off. Her eyes had filled with tears, noiselessly dropping down her cheeks like graceful dancers. “You cannot help him. You have not been able to for a long time. The only reason you have been trying to is because you love me,” she said, looking at him with a feeble smile.
He smiled back, equally feebly. “I did what I could. I’m very sorry.”
“It is not your fault. He is also dying, because he loves me,” she sighed.
Without another word she left him there, her boyfriend and her father’s doctor, to enter her father’s hospital room. What would she tell him? She had never been with a dying person before. Were you supposed to tell them they were dying?
He coughed lowly and looked at her.
“What does prince charming say,” he wheezed lowly.
She smiled. Dying and he still tried to play a sarcastic father in her life.
“He’s trying to save your life,” she said, pulling a chair beside his bed.
“Well he’s failing. Maybe if he spent more time on patients and less time on his hair”
In spite of herself and the situation, she chuckled for a moment. He had always been a man with a sense of humor. Momentarily she forgot he was lying there because of her. Much like a good parent, he understood her fears and addressed them.
“I know he can’t help. You can’t blame yourself.”
The tears she had fought so hard in the hallway threatened to overflow her eyes again. “Yes but, if you hadn’t had me dad-“
He waved his hand. “Hush. I’d have had nobody to share all the crap back at the house with. All yours now. And you’re the official protector of the family macaroni and cheese recipe,” he wheezed again.
She began to cry openly. He paced a gentle hand on hers as he coughed.
“I hope he’s a good man,” her father stated flatly. “He better be. When I’m goneI’m fine with being gone. Its you not being taken care of properly that bothers me.”
She wiped her eyes and looked up, as if being caught in a lie. “Daddad the doctor –“
“Don’t try to pull that with me. Just because I’m in this bed doesn’t mean I’m not a dad. I see you two and I know that look. You don’t think I didn’t look at your mother like that once? I looked at her like that every day until she died. He just better be looking at you that way for the right reasons.”
She blushes. Dying and he was still trying to protect her.
“If he’s not I’ll haunt the holy hell out of him,” her father wheezed. “In fact, bring him I here.”
“Sir?” the doctor answered, poking his head into the room.
“Yeah I got a few questions about my bum lung, and how you’re going to treat my daughter after I die. This is the part where it’d polish the barrel of my gun but since I’m stuck in the bed, use your imagination.”
Dyrregrov, K., Dyregrov, A. & Johnson, I., 2014. Positive and Negative Experiences from Grief Group Participation: A Qualitative Study. Journal of Death and Dying, pp. 45-62.
Murray Parkes, C., 2013. Love and Loss: The Roots of Grief and its Complications. London: Routledge.
Murray, C. & Prigerson, H. G., 2013. Bereavement: Studies of Grief in Adult Life. London: Routledge.