Dilemma (standard:drama, 1492 words)
Author: TDK	Added: Oct 14 2003	Views/Reads: 3401/2213	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The truth can find you out in many unexpected ways. This is my proposed submition for GCSE English. Please give my feed back... TDK

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

“Mr Mills?” a nurse enquired in a general manor. 

“Yeah!” I said. 

“This way please” she beckoned to me leading the way and showing me into
a room that was occupied by a doctor in a white coat, closed the door 
behind me. “Hop onto the couch Mr Mills” the doctor ushered, “How long 
have you been like this?” 

I explained that I had not been feeling too good the past several days,
but when I had noticed the rash, it had prompted me to seek a second 
opinion; All the while the doctor Who seemed to be getting younger 
hooked me up to a heart monitor and checking my throat inquired “Is 
this rash all over?” I nodded as he proceeded to take some samples of 
blood. “Having any chest pains?” he inquired. 

“No, I've had what seems to be a heavy cold and a bad sore throat for
the past few days,” while thinking to myself it was probably around a 
week. I was in work feeling cold and reckoning that I was in for a 
tough couple of days. I had not noticed the doctor leave the room, when 
there was a knock at the door and a nurse ushered in my wife. 

As we shared concerned expressions I said, “It's not as bad as it looks.
You got here quick, is Sherrie alright?” 

“She's round mum's, do they know any thing yet?” 

“Still doing tests, they think it might be my heart, I doubt it though,
with my job you got to be fit, you know what I think it is?” I was an 
Upholsterer of cinema seating. A lot of my job involved 
re-upholstering. You go into a cinema, pull out the old seating, take 
it back to base and re-upholster. “Lots of dust and shit at work” I 
said, “If I've caught something from that old seating I'm gona sue!” 

Tammy being the sobering ‘Ying' to my ragging ‘Yang' assured me that
until we knew anything conclusive it was not worth playing the 
‘blame-game'. At that moment a smartly dressed woman came in to the 
room “Mr Mills?” she enquired. 

“For my sins” I replied. 

“I'm the chief consultant here, Judy Young” she affirmed, “We've run
some tests; and your heart seems perfectly normal. However, your bloods 
have come back atypical, testing positive with what looks like in our 
opinion ‘Infectious Mononucleosis'. Your quite sick Mr Mills!” She 
said, “The treatment I prescribe depends on the information you give me 
now; do you mind if I ask you some personal questions?” As Tammy and I 
looked at each other, curiosity and concern competed in my mind; 
whatever was going on here, the sensitive nature and importance of the 
impending questions seem more relevant than my complacent attitude at 
this having nothing to do with my heart. “Go on” I said. 

“I need to know if you've used intravenous drugs, have had unprotected
casual sex with either male or female in the past 5 years?” she 
enquired, pushing a leaflet towards me with big red letters that read 
H.I.V. 

With an instant rush of heat I felt my head fill with blood.
Claustrophobia squeezed me as I felt the walls close in on me. My 
tongue felt as if it would fall out of my mouth as I looked down to 
read the leaflet, but the words would not lift from the page; and I 
could not lift any to read them. As I slipped into an altered state I 
remembered a voice saying, “Can I get you a drink?” Music seemed to 
fill me as I searched around for something familiar. I felt all the 
tension that I had stacked for several years drain out of me. In my 
thoughts I had been slowed down. Random thoughts fluttered around my 
head like butterflies looking for connections that would seem more 
relevant. “Would you like a sip of my drink?” she said Sitting down and 
cuddling up next to me. she looked into my eyes. Who was this beautiful 
girl; and where had she come from? As I looked into eyes that pierced 
blue, china faced, contrasting lipstick that complimented her long dark 
hair, very attractive. We kissed and melted into each other as we 
shared our drink and drugs. A figure materialised out of the mist that 
by now, was almost tangible. 

The figure kneeled down in front of me grinning, pale and wasted in
appearance, unshaven with spiked hair; looked through me with a shark 
like dead stare and said “You alright” with a grin that betrayed any 
concern; “I'll take my girlfriend back now” as the music, darkness and 
stale smell of death whirled around with echoing colours that burst 
into a fizz, bubbling in my head. 

“Can I get you a drink” was the sound I heard, as time seemed to snap
back into place. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Said the nurse. 

THE END for now. Please give me feed back if this story grabs you. 


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