Mother Said
Posted: 29 August 2009 Word Count: 363 Summary: For flash 1 nurse's challenge
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The nurse leaves work at 6.00 with yet another death behind her. Seven mortalities in twelve months. Night shift is a blessing. Night shift is her time to make important decisions.
She drives to the nearby coast. Parks up. Takes a small packet from her coat pocket. Popping a white pill into her mouth, her energy soars; her brain sings with vibrant music. Barefoot, she gets out of her car and dances upon sand, castings away dark colours that, daily, haunt her.
At 8.00 am she returns home, meeting her mother’s night carer in the hallway. ‘Everything all right,’ she asks, her recent euphoria ebbing into shades of dull pewter.
The carer shakes her head. ‘I tried to ring you. Your mother’s had a stroke. She’s been taken to St. Margaret’ Hospital.’
She dashes back outside. Gets into her car. Drives to the place she’d left two hours ago. Parking, she runs through A&E, down a long corridor and up a flight of stairs. On reaching Geriatrics, she finds her mother lying comatose in the same bed her last patient occupied.
She takes hold of a cold hand, squeezes gently, but it feels like the dead mackerel she’d found on the beach, yesterday. A colleague comes to stand beside her. ‘Do what you can for my mother,’ she tells her.
‘You shouldn’t work, tonight,’ her colleague replies. ‘Considering the circumstances.’
She smiles a weary smile. ‘Mother always insists upon duty before sentimentality.’
This evening, when she arrives to work her shift, she goes straight to her mother’s bed only to find it empty. She hears a colleague say, ‘We tried to ring you. Your mother died at half past five. She never regained consciousness.’
She looks down at the bare mattress. Now her black shoed feet begin to tap in the hope of dispelling her mental penumbra, but, as fast as she feet tap, dark shadows lengthen to grow into black, overwhelming pulsations.
‘Go home.’ A hand touches her shoulder, scattering dark shadows into shades of grey.
She turns and looks into brown, concerned eyes. ‘No,’ she replies. ‘Mother said.’ She stops, unable to say those words and heads towards the nurse’s station.
Comments by other Members
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GaiusCoffey at 07:41 on 29 August 2009
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Loved that, loved the escapist failure to face up to things.
Two niggles:
1. I'm guessing the pill is ecstasy, in which case, (I've heard...) two hours is not enough time for the drug to take effect, let her dance, come back down, and go home. Better to leave at 6 pm and return at 8 am.
2. Dancing the night away on drugs is not making decisions and you never offer a justification for why she thinks it is. (Though actually, I think I do recognise what you are trying to convey.)
Thought provoking,
Gaius
<Added>
Ps "castings away" >> "casting away"
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tusker at 08:41 on 29 August 2009
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Thanks for your kind comments, Gaius.
They're pills she nicks from the hospital to drown out her dark thoughts. To be honest, I don't know what they are. She's as mad as a hatter who's lived with a domineering mother.
By killing those elderly patients, she's killing her own mother in her own deluded, dark mind.
I think I'd better take another look at it as it's not been understood.
Jennifer
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Prospero at 09:00 on 29 August 2009
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This is dark and sad, Jennifer. I wonder how much this could happen in reality, then I remember Harold Shipman.
A strong compelling piece of writing. Well done.
Best
Prosp
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tusker at 10:05 on 29 August 2009
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Thanks John.
You read about it, and in the case of Mr. Shipman, he had issues as far as his mother's death.
Jennifer
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tusker at 12:50 on 29 August 2009
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Thanks, Oonah.
I'm trying to get to the light but it's damn hard work.
Jennifer
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crowspark at 13:50 on 29 August 2009
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Oh yes! Love this dark flash.
I wonder if you need to put a shadow of doubt into the reader's mind in that excellent first para? I didn't suspect that she was another Shipman.
Excellent last line. Great flash.
Bill
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tusker at 15:05 on 29 August 2009
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Many thanks, Bill. So glad you liked it.
I'll have a think about your suggestion, though thinking it can be a struggle at times.
Jennifer
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Jumbo at 16:29 on 29 August 2009
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Hi
Yes - dark it certainly is.
Did she turn up for work intending to finish off her mother, only to find that someone, or something, had beaten her to it?
Nicely done.
Thanks for the read.
john
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tusker at 07:26 on 30 August 2009
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No John, she didn't turn up for work to kill her mother. Duty, her mother's mantra, sent her there. But I think she'll carry on killing.
Jennifer
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Bunbry at 10:40 on 30 August 2009
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The rogue night nurse eh Jennifer?! They are deliciously spooky aren't they?
It's nice that you have shown some of her past - given a hint as to what has made her a killer.
Well done.
Nick
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FelixBenson at 13:27 on 30 August 2009
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Hi Jennifer
I like the 'witholding' and suggestion in this - what is unsid but implied gives it power, and the sense of the controlling mother really comes across. Great - and bleak - final line:
‘No,’ she replies. ‘Mother said.’ She stops, unable to say those words and heads towards the nurse’s station. |
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Thanks for the read, Kirsty
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