5 B E G I N N I N G S
Here are five beginnings.
Would appreciate constructive critiques,
comments, or even five endings...
is." said the nurse as she pulled back the
curtains. The young patient looked pale, as
she lay in the hospital bed. There was
still blood on the covers and on her
clothing. Another casualty.
"Is she the
one?" asked the nurse. He nodded.
carefully pulled part of the covers off. He
nearly winced at the sight. She was still
wearing the short khaki shorts. There was no
leg sticking out from the right short, just
know?" he whispered as she carefully
the covers. She shook her
came to, they were thousands of miles away.
She was lying in a soft bed, outside, in
quiet garden. She had new clothes on. A
clean white shirt, and clean khaki shorts.
He was standing over her, redressing her
your right leg." he said bluntly, as if to
prove a point made long ago.
focused on her shorts. There was only one
leg. Where was her right leg? What had
happened? Why did she have no tears?
discovered that she had the tumor at the
photoshoot. They were doing the last
calender cover shoot. The producer wanted
something provacative, something
eye-catching. After some consultation with
the lighting specialist and the
photographer, they agreed on a pose.
positioned themselves by the edge of the
rink. She stood up and rested her right leg
on the railing, so it was perpedicular with
her body and left leg. A fan was turned on
to make her short skirt flutter a bit, but
not show anything.
He got under
her and softly caressed her right thigh with
his hands. He slowly licked the underside of
her thigh as the film was exposed. It was
then that his tongue felt the slight bump in
her slender bony thigh. That was the last
photograph of her in which she still had two
girl flipped though the calender. Before
setting it back on the shelf, she took one
more look at the cover. A lone tear fell
down her cheek. With a slight limp, she
slowly made her way out of the bookstore.
attendent noted that the girl seemed to have
a bit of an athletic figure, even under the
dark slacks. Too bad, she walked with the
"Get her out
of there!" someone shouted before several
people laboriously pulled her out of the
water and laid her on the deck of the boat.
Part of her right thigh flapped around as
she was moved. Her face grimaced in pain.
Several people rushed in with towels to wrap
around the remains of her leg.
had torn off her right leg about
three-quarters the way above the knee. She
moaned softly in agony as the towels were
instantly soaked with blood. She was lucky
to be alive.
get her some water!" a person shouted. By
now, they had gone through several sets of
towels. There was a large pool of blood on
the deck. Fear was beginning to overtake the
horrible pain, as she watched blood gush out
of the severed end of her leg.
relax," said a calm voice beside her.
"We're on our way to the hospital.
Everthing's going to be okay." The bleeding
slowed to a trickle and stopped. She slowly
remembered the moment she became an amputee.
sitting, with her right leg strewn across
one rail. She had her white shorts on. The
sun was in her eyes. She heard the train
rumbling toward her. The large wheels
turned on the track, almost in slow motion.
Her long and slender leg was gleaming in the
some reason, she couldn't react. As soon as
the shiny steel wheel came in contact with
the inside of her thigh, her whole body was
thrown up. Her thigh turned pale white. The
combination of the turning wheel and the
rail sliced right through the slender thigh
like the blades on a pair of scissors.
A cold electric metallic
sensation was the last feeling she would
ever have from her right leg.
fell down as soon as the wheel passed. Her
hands instinctively reached the upper part
of the thigh (which was still connected to
her). There was no blood-yet. The stump was
pale and cylindrical. The end was a little
flat from the enormous pressure of the
train wheel. She could see the intricate
structure of muscles, bones, and blood
vessels inside her wound.
blood came. First, the stump returned to
it's original tan. She watched as what was
left of her leg, cradled in her hands turned
blush red. The blood slowly oozed out the
end at first, then began to gush out faster
the blood, came the pain. She emptied her
bladder, threw back her head, and wailed as
a sensation more intense than childbirth
shot up from her thigh.
sure if she was exhausted from screamingor
from loss of blood. She vaguely remembered
the paramedics arriving. By that time, the
bleeding had almost ceased. Her femoral
artery had naturally closed up to keep her
from bleeding to death. They carefully
placed her on a stretcher and loaded her
into the ambulance.
"I ask you
one more time." He demanded. "Will you marry
me?" An armed thug stood on either side of
her head. "No."
She was tied
down on a metal table, facing him. All four
limbs were restrained with rope. She was
being held in a warehouse of some sort.
There were several large pieces of equipment
"If I can't
have you," he continued. "Nobody will."His
thugs brought over one of the large pieces
machinery. He walked over
and stroked her right leg. Sheshivered as
his cold hand touched her flesh.
you gonna do?" she asked, almost
sarcastically. "Kill me?"
not." he replied. "This is a
high-powerindustrial laser." He pointer to
the machine the thugs were setting up.
"It can cut
through flesh," he explained. "And there
will be no bleeding, as all the blood
vessels will have been cauterized.
Therefore, little medical attention is
her short tennis skirt and ran his hand
along her long slender, yet muscular leg.
"Cut off her
leg." he ordered the thugs.
in horror as the thugs aimed the apparatus
at her calf below the knee.
he said. "Or your tennis career is over."
Wimbleton with a prosthesis before I marry
you." she spat.
"Aim the beam at her thigh, just below her
hip." he said to the thugs. He turned to
her. "Above-knee amputees have much more
difficulty maintaining balance."
He walked away.
pulled her skirt up, and turned on the beam.
She thrust her head back as she cried from
the intenseburning sensation. She was
overcome by the fumes of her own burning
came to, the pain was gone. She was lying on
the floor of the warehouse. Something was
laying on her stomach. She saw that it was
her severed right leg, already quite cold.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she held the
slender limb. Rigor mortis had already
locked the knee.
She lost it
when she looked at her own skirt. One leg.
There was no obvious outline of a stump. The
pleats on the right side of her short tennis
skirt were draped flat against the ground.