The Wait

Beep. Beep. For once in my life I was comforted by the annoying sounds of heart monitors in the halls. Taking in a deep breath of the stagnant air, I studied the way my worn-down sneakers looked in contrast with the bleach-white linoleum floor. Though nurses and doctors frantically buzzed around the hospital with squeaking shoes and spoke in hushed tones, there was an uncomfortable silence that embraced the waiting room. Almost 2 o’clock in the morning, half the lights in the corridor were shut off and the remaining buzzed in a way that could be undermined if there was anything else to pay attention to. The few unfamiliar faces sitting in the chairs around me were mostly etched with angst or sorrow. The man sitting across from me seemed too content reading his newspaper. His head was adorned with salt and pepper hair, and laugh lines sat playfully on his forehead. He'd been here for less than forty minutes and I envied his calm demeanor. At least I wasn't a complete wreck, merely the shell of a human. The only thing I'd done for the past three hours was sit, and observe. I guess it's true that time seems to slow when you're waiting; the second hand of the clock was ticking unbearably slow. An aching in my back had intensified from slouching in the cold plastic chairs while I drifted in and out of thought. I was still finding it difficult to embrace the harsh reality in front of me; my dad had been in a car accident. My hero, the man that I'd always thought was invincible was unconscious and attached to multiple electronic machines just down the hall. Under critical condition and frightfully close to death, I could hear his heart monitor beating steadily. Enough to ease the helplessness that I’d felt for him, I knew it still wasn’t enough to ensure that he would be okay. Refusing to move unless a nurse would invite me in to see him, I let my heavy eyelids flutter closed and felt the weight of my chest rise and fall with each breath. I listened to the only sound that I had been able to find comfort in as I drifted to sleep that night. Beep. Beep.

O Capitain! My Capitain!

Sydney Askeland

#8-5050 13th Avenue

Okanagan Falls, B.C.

V0H 1R4

October 1, 2013

Captain Van Camp

Commander

HMS Princess Margaret

O Captain, My Captain:

Such tragedy, distasteful tragedy has struck us. You are a noble man Captain Van Camp. I cannot imagine how hard it was to make such a decision. Unlike the others, I understand the heroic legacy in which you wish to achieve by saving five of our young lives.

This is why I am writing to you, O Right Honorable Captain. You see, the others amongst the ship are going to try everything: begging, bribing, sweet-talking, etc. But I, Your Excellency, understand. Most of us are the same in age, very young indeed. We have our lives ahead of us, or at least five of us do. We have families and friends who care, dozens of people waiting for our safe return. If they haven't yet broadcasted our misfortune on the radio, our loved ones are sure to worry when we don't contact them.

What would you do if you could live through this? Where would you go? Who would you confess your love to? I had never put much thought into my plans for the future. Now, under the circumstances, a million options are buzzing through my head. So many chances and opportunities I would have had. I would make a difference. I would go to school, get the top education possible. I would find my soul mate and stop at nothing to make him mine. I would have children, and give them the world on a silver platter. First, I must make it through this. You see, how many of these crewmen have plans? How many have a real future? Are there any doors open for them? Can they make a pure path for themselves, unscathed by the temptations of urban sin?

This is why, Captain Van Camp, I can assure you that I am a worthy candidate. Knowing how close I had come to a premature death, I will make the best life imaginable for myself. It is hard for a woman to compete in such circumstances, but a gentleman would never let a woman die before a man, would he? That is how I see you. I know you are the wisest to have sailed these deceitful seas. Ne'er should it be uttered that you had been anything other than a hero. Though I merely hope to sway your decision, my respect for such an honorable man has left me in a contented place. I realize how hard it will be to make the decisions, to play the role of God. I will not be mad sir; it has been the experience of a lifetime to serve under your command. I hope that it will not be the last great experience in my life. I have had a fulfilling childhood, and the rest lies ahead of me.

Thank you for your consideration, Captain Van Camp. It has been unforgettable.

Sincerely,

Sydney Askeland

And She Dances Like No One Is Watching

           Her glowing hazel eyes flutter closed as she confidently takes in a deep breath.  Sydney allows the gentle melody of the music to engulf her; like a puppeteer taking control of her actions.  Everything in the world around her blurs out of focus, only one thing occupies her mind.  Graceful feet guide her across the floor and her movements seem to paint a picture.  Bounding.  Spinning.  Tumbling.  She carries through elegantly as if she were floating.  Her muscles groan in protest but she dances flawlessly.  Immersing herself thoroughly in the routine, her spirit is lifted.  Insecurities, troubles, the stress of everyday life wash from her.  Naturally, the music nears its end and Sydney obediently follows.  Radiating elation, it is clear that dancing is her solitude, her saviour, and her passion.