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A doctor's waiting room It's 13th February 1998. There's exactly half an hour left till my appointment. I'm walking on the main road

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Introduction

A doctor's waiting room It's 13th February 1998. There's exactly half an hour left till my appointment. I'm walking on the main road towards the G.P. its a miserable day, the clouds are as dark as charcoal the rain is dropping heavily, soaking me as I walk in a slow pace. The wind is hammering my face, making my eyes water and my lips splinter. I'm shivering all over, I'm willing myself to walk faster yet my legs feel heavy as though they're not listening to the orders of my brain. I finally seem to have made it to the entrance of the G.P. The doors slide open as I walk in, greeting me with the warmth of the place. ...read more.

Middle

Not a single person looks anxious. All I can hear is the clock ticking away like a small insect sucking your blood. Newspapers and magazines flipping from side to side, kids crying and playing around, throwing toys every where, making so much racket and mess in the room. Finally my name is called out, after twenty minutes of agony and dullness. I knocked quietly three times on the brown shiny door of the office. As the door gently opened my legs felt jelly and my stomach tumbled. There he was standing right in front me. This handsome guy smiling at me, with his large hazel eyes, his long gleaming hair and his neatly grown beard. ...read more.

Conclusion

He was my best friend since the age of 10 to 17, but yet he could not recognize me. All I can see was his mouth moving, but yet I couldn't hear a single word. I tried to talk but it seemed no words wanted to come out of my mouth. I felt like a little girl who had a crush on the next-door neighbour. My hands were sweaty, I was stuttering too much and giggling every second. I didn't know what to do. Either remind him who I was or just leave. Next thing I knew I was doing was running as fast as a lightening. From that moment and onwards I was really disappointed with my self. I couldn't even do a simple thing. That's when it hit me to move on with my life and stop hanging on the past. BY NAJMA HIRSI ...read more.

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