Willkill12
Member
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Finding Home.
Hatred. It’s a big word, but I can’t think of any other to describe how I feel towards Hetty. No idea what her second name is. She claims she doesn’t have one. Now that’s stupid. How could you not have a second name? I suppose that’s one of the reasons why I hate her. And there are loads more too. I could make a list...
Let’s see... She’s got no conscience. Has no parents (A teacher once mentioned this). No idea where or who she lives with. But no one cares about her. No one. At all. Once, after Year 10 options evening, she just stood there at the end, waiting for non-existent carers. But no one came. I had to leave before her in the end, and when I asked my friend Bradley, whose dad is a teacher, he just shrugged and said he didn’t see a parent, but after 8:00PM she just vanished.
But Bradley didn’t really care much. I don’t think anyone does. And that’s gotta hurt. But it doesn’t. Not for her. Not one bit. And so if everyone doesn’t care about you, you should feel something... some sadness or remorse or loneliness. But nothing? There’s gotta be something wrong with your conscience if you don’t care that no one else cares.
She’s also weird. And I mean seriously weird. She’s 15 (I think), bust still likes ‘The Wizard of Oz’. That’s a baby’s film... so why would she like it? It’s pathetic with singing tin cans and naive and strange creatures following a yellow brick road. What could a (bright) 15 year old girl see in that?
That’s another thing. She doesn’t make any sense. She’ll finish all her class work and start writing in a diary or drawing some lame lion or something. She ain’t retarded or anything. She gets A’s in her schoolwork. She could be a child geinius, if she studied harder in her free time. So then why does she spend her free time writing or drawing pointless stuff, whenever she gets the chance? That is, free time when she is actually physically there. This brings me onto the final reason I hate her.
She’s never actually there. She hardly ever turns up for school. I’m yet to find her at a lunchtime. Y’know, not even wondering around. Never. As soon as the bell goes, she disappears and you won’t see her again for a couple of days. And when she comes back, some random lessons she’ll skip. Just like that. And whenever I ask anyone, they’ll just make up some excuse for her like ‘counselling’ or something. But that’s it. A fellow student is bunking off the painstakingly boring and sometimes quite difficult and stressful lessons and no one even cares. No one envies her. Well, I’m not surprised about that, it would suck to be her, but my point is people who are different get picked on. I’m not too different, yet I have to fight with all my energy to keep up and be accepted. But not her... no one says anything to her, nice or nasty. She’s gets it so easy and no one cares. She has a stupid diary full of crappy but precious things that people could target. But they don’t. Not even the other social victims. They just accept it. It’s as if she’s not there. I’m the only one who actually sees her for what she is. A selfish, weird senseless idiot.
I’ve often wondered why I care. And to be honest, I’m not too sure. There’s something about there that not quite right. Not quite human. But extremely fascinating... Yeah, that’s it. That’s why I care.
And it’s been 2 years now I’ve just accepted it. But now I’m going to rock the boat. If no one else will, then I will. Could be because I’m fascinated could be just because I’m extremely bored with nothing else to do, but one thing’s for certain: Tonight, I’m going to follow her home, and find out some of the many secrets revolving around so called ‘Hetty’.
Probably nothing will happen. Y’know, it’ll turn out she’s just like me. Just some reject who’s got lucky with the bullies and locks herself in a toilet at lunch, and has counselling during some lessons due to supposedly not having any parents. Every mystery probably has a logical explanation... And yet... I still think she’s hiding something. Don’t know what. Maybe she’s an alien or a spy, from MI6. Or a robot from the future. Or maybe she’s just totally screwed up. And screwed up people are funny. There was this retarded guy on telly and he was funny as, like twisting his head around 360 degrees. Well, maybe she has weird tendencies, like sleeping in a bin and I can get a good laugh. Or at least find out something about this mystery girl. Because she does have a lot of secrets. An awful lot. Way more than what is fair for a normal human being to harbour. And so I plan to find them out. All of them.
I went to this shop yesterday. Bought this little red bow. I kinda thought that if she caught me following her, I could give it to her, especially as it was near Valentine’s Day. She’d be flattered and I could pretend I followed her to give it to her as a surprise. It was a fall back. Because otherwise, if she caught me, then I’d look pretty stupid. And in a way, although I didn’t like to admit it, the thought of her reaction to danger (me following her) could be rash, as she was so strange. I mean, I’m not worried that she would turn me into a frog or anything, but with a girl this mysterious I shouldn’t expect the ordinary. So I had taken precautions.
The bow was brilliant. Brilliant to touch, to look at, evemt to smell. i wish everything in life was this good. Like maths... I am in maths now, the last lesson before end of school and in less than half an hour I would be leaving, but I wouldn’t be going to my home. I would be going to Hetty’s as an unexpected surprise. My mum thought I was seeing Bradley and I already got my P.E. kit from my locker at lunch. As soon as the bell goes as I was going to follow Hetty (sitting 2 seats in front, gazing out of the window, like there’s some dragon or something outside...). I was going to run after her and not let her go as if my life depended on it. I had to find out, I had to.
I was still stroking the bow when teacher set homework and 5 mins-til-end-of-lesson passed (you coult tell due to the sound of 20 books being outinto bags). So after I’d quickly scrawled the homework, I shoved the bow into my pocket and packed up faster than ever. A few people even noticed and turned to look at me. Don’t look at me, look at Hetty; she’s the weird one...
Then suddenly the bell goes. I quickly throw my eyesight onto Hetty. You’re not going to escape this time. As the class slowly waddles out of the door I carefully position myself behind Hetty. I can see her stupid little Wizard of Oz bag now, hunched up on her shoulders. Her long blonde hair hanging down her back. I hate to admit it, but she is very pretty. But she never does anything with her looks. It’s wasted, seeing as she never goes out never talks to anyone. But no one seems to care.
We’re out of the room now, going down the long corridor leading to reception and the school gates. After that, I’ve no idea where I’ll be going. I quickly avert my eyes back to Hetty. She’s still there. Good. I study the crazy picture of the scarecrow, on Hetty’s bag. He’s smiling widely, with a grin way too big for his face. Must be great being a scarecrow and not having to worry about anything other than smiling and scaring crows. Or a lion, that doesn’t have to compete, because he’s scared. And people accept him for what he is. A coward. Maybe the Wizard of Oz isn’t so crazy. This world we live in is. Or I am... Christ, the sooner I’m back home the better, being this close to Hetty is really... strange.
We’ve now walked up the hill that the school was built upon. Usually I’d walk down the hill, to the bus stop. But Hetty, who is now about 20 metres ahead of me, is going up the hill, so I am too. This hill is quite steep and I’m clutching onto the little red bow, my big bulky hands holding onto the fragile precious material. It feels beautiful. I certainly hope I don’t have to give this to Hetty, for I want it myself. At least I think I do...
I’m beginning to get a tiny bit tired now. Hetty however is moving quicker than ever and I almost have to jog to keep the 20m gap between us equal. We’ve gone past hedge after hedge, house after house now. I hadn’t realized the hill was this big. The traffic's slowed down now, and the only people around are me and Hetty. I suddenly feel really cold and I know it’s not too late to turn round and go home... But then Hetty turns right down this little lane, heading for the promenade. So slightly, reluctantly I turn right too...
It’s now freezing and I’ve slung my P.E. bag over my shoulder, and its resting on my already overloaded and extremely heavy backpack. I fold my arms and pull my sleeves over my shivering hands for extra warmth. I look up for Hetty. She’s gone...
Quickly, I start to jog down the lane feeling a slight sense of panic. I must find her; I’m not going back to that horrid school tomorrow, not without finding her... My backpack thumps against my back with each step and my breath is coming out in rags. I’m sweating but also freezing and my legs are aching already I’m tiring. The lane is now rapidly declining and my legs are on the verge of sliding in the mud that’s taken hold of the lane. Is this all worth it?
I’m still running franticly as the lane evens out and ends up in Brooke road, parallel to the seafront. I slow down now, thankful for the excuse to stop running and catch my breath. For which way did she go? I bend down on the pavement feeling a wave of nausea. My legs are on fire, I think I must have twisted one when I was running down that confounded lane. I look up. There’s a figure, around Hetty’s height moving along the seafront heading for the pier. How did she get there so quick?
As fast as I can I jog unsteadily across the road and over the green lawn which inhabits the gap between Brooke road and the seafront. My feet squelch in the waterlogged grass as I painfully half-run half-walk over towards the pier, where the Hetty figure is now travelling. Why is she going to the pier? She can’t live there?
I’m puzzled but also fascinated and despite the cold wet and aching state I’m in, I head for the pier entrance. There’s this indoor tunnel with a few lazy and late tourists walking idly round the slot machines, wasting their money. As I approach the entrance it begins to rain and I‘m thankful for being indoors. No one seems to notice me, despite my feet are leaving huge muddy footprints. But that doesn’t really matter. I hurry past the machines. I remember back when I was eleven me and my mates would come here and try and win some money, maybe the odd prize. Y’know have a bit of fun. But now I never see any friends, all I do is laze around at home and generally live a life of boredom. God, my life sucks.
The doors that end the tunnel of machines are approaching and there’s no sign of Hetty. I look to see if there are any security guards around. No one, just this long haired guy poking 10 pence pieces into a slot machine. Idiot. I push on the door, and to my surprise it opens, despite the fact that I’m pretty sure that I’m not supposed to go out here, as it’s usually closed off. I quickly shut the double door behind me and I feel the full force of the gale. The cold slaps against my face and the rain is being thrown everywhere and hitting my face and hands like ice cold needles. I stagger forward against the wind, in the hope I may see Hetty. No sign of her yet. But she has to be here she can’t have just vanished...
But there she is, standing at the very end of the pier next to the broken interactive telescope looking out across the bay. Her blonde hair is waving around everywhere, and she looks seriously out of place. A young girl, who should be at home in the warmth, is at a closed-off section of an unsafe pier in the pouring rain and howling wind...
I push forward determined to find out what’s so fascinating. I bow my head down and push my feet forward, one step at a time.
1 step, 2 steps, 3 steps, 4 steps, 5 steps...
I look up. Hetty has her back turned to me, and her Wizard of Oz bag is on the ground by her feet, its contents wriggling about, threatening to escape at any second. Now that I’ve found her and caught her up, I’m not sure what to do. Should I shout her name? Shake her? Walk up to her and try to enjoy the view? Christ, it’s cold now...
‘Come here.’ Despite the howling wind I hear her perfectly, and I know she’s talking to me. Her voice is sweet and it’s said in a kind tone of voice so I obey, and stagger forwards towards her. I heave my arms onto the railings and push my had up so that I can look out across the sea. That’s all there is. Sea. Did Hetty come all this way just to see the sea?
‘What do you see?’ She asks. Her voice is beautiful, and it’s warm and kind, even though she has no idea who I am.
‘Uh, I see the ocean. Raging with fury, threatening any sailor who dare touches its watery wings.’
‘Look closer.’ She touches my back and I close my eyes. Suddenly, the weight of my backpack vanishes. My P.E. bag disappears. My legs stop aching. The wind lays off my red and very cold face. I feel warmth and a sense of calm inside. I turn round and open my eyes. I see...
White.
No wait, Yellow.
Patches of yellow...
Bricks. Yellow bricks.
A road. A yellow brick road...
I quickly turn my head back round. Everything is bright, but not annoyingly. Everything seems peaceful and I feel at ease, a feeling I haven’t experienced in a very long time. Slowly, shapes begin to show themselves... A house. There’s no sea just a house and around it nothing. The house is beautiful, with silver blocks of concrete glinting in the light, and a yellow perfectly-thatched roof. A striped door, with all the colours of the rainbow, painted perfectly, not a scratch. The whole house is perfect and I hear Hetty’s distant voice again.
‘Open the door...’
I open the door with ease, the door knob being warm to touch. At first there’s nothing but slowly out of the light appears a lion. A majestic one. Like the ones in story books standing on all fours gazing out across the world. Only it’s gazing at me... With turquoise watery eyes... god it’s beautiful. I want to touch it, to stroke its maine. And unlike in the past, everything’s limited. You have to pay. Nothing is free. But here...
‘Anything is yours, no strings attached.’ Comes Hetty’s soft voice.
Then another figure appears. A scarecrow, but with large watery black eyes and a huge grin. Below his head on his neck is a necklace of pink flowers, with yellow centres, their sweet aroma embracing my senses. The scarecrow doesn’t need to scare crows, its happy enough as it is, and so would I if I could forget my worries and finally find serenity.
‘Live in a world without of fear of what others think, in a world where you can be yourself and not constantly be challenged by others.’
Next, a tin man appears, his metal body polished and sunlight reflecting off it. Like the others, he has no fear and I can see why. Being made of metal, he can’t be hurt. No pain, no hunger, no tiredness, no stress, no worries... He can never die.
‘And neither can you. Escape the one thing that limits you most... Fear. Because here, it doesn’t exist, and you leave everything, that scares you behind and start again. Start afresh in a world with no limits. Forever... ‘
I turn my head and look at Hetty. She’s smiling at me, looking at me strait in the eye. And she doesn’t annoy me anymore. She only annoyed me because she didn’t have the things I did... like pain, worry, hatred and boredom. Well, now she’s shown me how to have the same as her... and like night follows day, I know that I have to follow her. I know I’m not going to turn round and go back into the other world. Because that’s stupid. Why accept the cagings of life, when I stretch out my wings and leave it behind, to go to a better world with Hetty?
The tin man lifts his hand towards me and Hetty... He has no motives, no hidden agendas. He isn’t trying to prove anything, he has no goals. No purpose. He’s just a tin man who will be my friend. And he needs me to decide whether I’m going to stay or leave...
The scarecrow, the lion and the tin man at the door begin to fade. I need to decide whether I’m going to step through that door or not, and it has to be now.
I look at Hetty. She is more beautiful now than ever... She takes my hand and together we step forward, towards the door, towards the light, towards our new friends...
...and then, hand in hand, we plummet into the ice cold sea.
Comments
‘The First World War helped more than it hindered progress in medicine.’ How far do you agree?
I personally think World War I did help more than it hindered due to the experience medical officers gained as a result of the many casualty and wounds the doctors treated. This experience was vital as it made room for new treatments and developments in surgery, such as blood banks. However, some may disagree, as World War I killed off a lot of doctors, limiting progress as dead doctors can’t make any developments.
The main reason, in my opinion, the First World War helped medical developments was due to the experiences it gave doctors and surgeons who had to treat the numerous casualties. More attempts of saving a soldier’s life increased the chances of a surgeon or doctor making a new discovery or a better treatment or technique in dealing with a an injury and some of these new medical ideas could be used again through communication between doctors. These ideas could then be re-used and help doctors treat further casualties more effectively.
One example of this was new techniques of repairing broken bones, better surgery on eyes, ears, nose and throat and even some simple brain surgery. Also, many soldier needed new skin as part of their skin had been damaged from war such as shrapnel and burns. Due to this need for skin, this resulted in skin grafts, which started out simply and helped soldiers which was one benefit. However, skin grafting was also the basis for plastic surgery; a very important medical discovery which may not have happened or wouldn’t have been discovered for a while longer, had it not been for the practicing of early skin grafting in the war.
Another example of a new medical idea which originated from the war was the invention of blood groups which meant transfusions could be done, which could help soldiers dying from blood loss. However, this development was limited as blood givers couldn’t always be there at the right time at the right place, such as near a battlefield.
Eventually though, blood banks were invented. This meant transfusions could be done with out having the giver there with the receiver. Different types of blood could be stored and be ready to be used towards anyone who needed it. This meant many casualties could be saved from death due to blood loss.
Also, World War I helped as Britain was forced to treat the mentally ill, as many soldiers suffered from shell shock. This helped medical developments as before the mentally ill weren’t that bigger problem and so even if they weren’t treated correctly for example they were called cowards which was obviously untrue. Due to this belief treating them wasn’t a big focus. World war I changed this as now getting shell shocked soldier back on their feet was crucial for the British army and treating them correctly improved the chances of this. New ideas such as counselling were developed and this formed the basis for nurses whose roll was keeping shell shocked soldier with increased morale. These ideas were re-used for future casualties and wars, evidence is that this idea is still used today.
Finally, and most importantly in my opinion was the invention of X-rays which became widely used when doctors discovered their potential of revealing dangerous shrapnel and bullets in the body which could lead to infection. Once doctors realized this x-rays quickly came into use and were seen in many hospitals during World War I. Also, X-ray machines could kill diseased skin such as lumps and tumours. Scientists and surgeons became more familiar with dealing with tumours this way and eventually they came to know how to focus X-rays and use them to our benefit without being harmed by the rays themselves. Without the war X-ray machines wouldn’t have been so widely used and benefits of them may not have been discovered as without the war focus wouldn’t have been on x-ray machines.
However, in some ways the war hindered developments. One example of this was that the War took away doctors from civilian life. Whilst it was important that doctors were on the battlefield to help the soldiers many were killed by battle and the ones that weren’t didn’t return to civilian life. So that meant disease in the cities and other areas of civilian life were at risk as any injuries or disease or infections couldn’t be treated as well due to lack of doctors. This wouldn’t have been a problem had it not been for the war.
Also, infection was still a problem. During peacetime aseptic surgery was used and infection rates were down. However, at the battlefields doctors were under pressure to carry out many operations quickly and correctly. With that in mind, it was difficult to prevent all infection, and ,any soldiers died in unclean conditions or from unclean foreign objects entering their body such as bullets and shrapnel. Dirty clothes also caused infection as clothes would often cover the wound at some point, dropping bacteria into it causing ‘Gas Gangrene’. Some people think the war hindered medical developments as aseptic surgery couldn’t carries out as well on battlefields and thousands died from infection, bleeding and shock.
However, through trial and error developments were made for stopping infection on battlefields, although not completely. Cutting away infected tissue helped, as did applying a saline solution and soaking that into the wound. However it wasn’t until the development of penicillin that infection was truly beaten.
To conclude, I think the war did help medical advances more that it hindered as strong re-usable treatments became a product of the war such a X-ray machines, nursing the mentally ill and blood transfusions which are still used today, which is strong evidence that they were important developments. And although there were hindrances such as taking away doctors from civilian life and less clean surgery conditions, the war in my opinion was crucial as it gave doctors and surgeons the chance to learn from the learning curve and learn from their mistakes. Without the war, there’d be less casualties to learn from and doctors would have less experience and decent techniques when dealing with further casualties and injuries and new ideas gained from the war wouldn’t exist when England went into war again such as World War II. World War I prepared England and its doctors for future wars and would mean less failed surgery and treatments in future wars, which is also a very important development in medicine and surgery.
< Message edited by Willkill12 -- 3/9/2010 17:02:38 >
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