Prologue to Un-Titled New Story

WARNING: If you have a weak stomach, I suggest that you might not want to read this. However, I really hope you do, even though there's a couple paragraphs that are a bit gross. I hope you like it.]


Prologue: The End or The Beginning
Elsie

This wasn't how I pictured the end to be.

I heard the slow beeping of the IV monitor beside me as I slowly fluttered my eyes open. The room - at least what seemed to be a room - appeared in a foggy haze. I struggled to look around, but my head felt like it weighed two tons.
I heard low whispering around me, but I was too dizzy at the moment to even hear what they were saying as I tried to re-adjust my head. I moved slowly until I felt myself stay in an upright position, hoping that when I opened my eyes this time, everything would seem regular again.
But a very different sensation washed over me, as I felt something move slowly up my throat. I clutched the railing of the bed and started coughing and gagging - a mixture of the two.
I finally recognized a person, a black nurse with long, wavy black hair, wearing gold hoops and purple scrubs. She was carrying a clean pink basin that, unfortunately, wasn't going to be clean much longer.
I leaned over the side of my bed and emptied my stomach into the bucket, wondering about what the last thing I possibly could've eaten was. I couldn't remember, the last few days had been a nightmare. I kept on vomiting as the nurse held my long, brown hair back behind me softly patting my back with her other hand. She kept on murmuring things into my ear like, "It's OK," and "Breathe, breathe." When I finally couldn't puke any longer, I slowly wiped my mouth off with my backhand and flushed a deep pink, embarrassed that the visitors I could now see had to see me spill my cookies.
I focused on the visitors, who must've been the ones whispering earlier, now staring at me with big eyes. I finally recognized each one of them, five in all.
The first visitor to my left needed an apology, one that was definitely needed. I also just wanted to talk to her, hoping that she'd make me laugh, like she had years earlier.
The second visitor I only recognized from pictures; I didn't know him personally but I knew a lot about him.
The third and fourth visitors needed explaining to, since I had pretty much lied to them about the last two years of my life.
The fifth visitor however...I wasn't quite sure of what I had to do to make amends with him. He stared at me with anticipation, and when I met his eyes he smiled a little grin. But I could see his eyes, and they were telling a different story..they looked pleading? Sad? Anxious? I couldn't tell.
I closed my eyes and leaned back against the hospital bed, taking slow, deep breaths as I tried to keep tears from springing to my eyes.
For one, I look so vulnerable and ugly. I thought. Why do they have to see me like this?
I opened my eyes again and looked sadly at the black ribbon curled up in my lap, sighing.

Oh and thoughts for a good story title would also be appreciated...

Hi Jane! I like the start you have here.

You don't have to apologize for being gross. Actually, you don't have to apologize for being vulgar or sentimental or sarcastic, or anything really. You can write whatever type of story you want to write, in whatever way you want to write it. Focus on getting the story out as you have it in your head. I know people say you have to consider your audience, and that's true - up to a point. You have to write for you too, though! Otherwise, what's the fun and what's the point?

Having said that, you have some basic grammatical, sentence-structure type errors throughout the piece. I don't want to get hung up on it, though, because that's something that's definitely fixable with the aid of a good proofreader.

The ending is pretty abrupt, however. As a reader, I feel like as soon as I started to form some idea of who these people are surrounding your narrator in the hospital, they disappeared! Short prologues are fine (in fact, I prefer them. I feel sort of cheated when I read twenty pages and then turn the page and it's like, "Chapter One." What have I been doing for twenty pages then?! /rant). I feel like the scene opens but never closes. It's not like a cliff-hanger, though. More like a page just went missing out of the book, which is confusing, not exciting.

Overall, my advice is this: eliminate cliche's (tossing cookies? Come on. It's just too old-fashioned.), and think through the scene to make it work as a whole once it's written.

PM me if you've got any questions, and keep up the good work!