Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 3 2018 | Page 126

Gemma's Story
Harrow International School, Shanghai, Littler, Julianna - 11
T
he clouds shifted and the moon came into sight in the dimming atmosphere. Down on Spring Field
Street, there was an industrious house-hold. Within the house there were three people rushing
around in stunning prom dresses and striking suits.
It was Gemma’s first prep school dance as she was only nine years old, and her parents were determined to
make it perfect. Her hair was put into the most flawless bun, and her mum, Margaret, treated her to a bit of
blush and lipstick. Gemma’s dress was glamorous with a layer of sequins wrapping around the top half of her
elegant figure. The skirt of the dress draped down at the back and left the front shorter. She did look mature
for her age. The exception was that she wore cheap, plastic ‘ clip clops’ that were originally from her human
size Barbie that she had recently got for Christmas.
The dance started at quarter past six and the clock had just struck five.
“We need to go, DAD!”
“One sec honey, just need to gel down this protruding hair!”
Gemma and her mum were chatting at their front door about how memorable the dance was going to be,
meanwhile her dad came out of the bathroom with a loose hair sticking up like a penguin. Gemma and he
mum were taken over by laughter as her dad stood there taking it all in. Before the three left the house,
Gemma’s mum stopped and looked at Gemma “Your dad and I are going to be here throughout every
milestone of your life” They then had a sweet family cuddle.
After the extraordinary night of entertainment and dance they came back worn out and exhausted.
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Gemma sat in the waiting room of the dreary hospital, staring blankly at the new born, in the arms of her ill
looking mother. All her relatives were there admiring Gillian (the yet to be decided name of Gemma’s baby
sister)
Gemma’s mother was not beaming with happiness after all the family members had left, she grew quite
discreet… Her face began to turn unusually pale and her lips quivered as they went deep blue. She tried to
speak but no words seemed to come out. “DOCTOR, DOCTOR!”
“What’s wrong with her dad?”
“It’s ok sweetie, your mums going to be ok.” A doctor and nurse came rushing in with different anesthetics
on a little steel tray. Gemma’s dad was breaking out in anxiety whilst Gemma was watching.
“Calm down sir, your wife hasn’t reacted well to this antibiotic that we gave her after surgery to stop her
womb from getting infected, so what’s happening is, her blood has started to clot somewhere around her
chest, and if we don’t treat this now then there is 90% chance that your wife won’t make it.” The nurse and
doctor detached all of the electrodes and ECG pads which were connected to her body and then with force,
charged the hospital bed down to the operating theatre. All strained out, Gemma’s dad picked up baby
Gilli