Death's Own Hospital Part 1

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A long time ago, in the future of the world, there was a hospital. Well, it wasn’t built as a hospital. It was a sixteenth century church with arched stone pillars and magnificent stained glass windows. But that is not the point. The point is, that, in fact, in the long ago time I am speaking of, it was a hospital.

It wasn’t your everyday hospital where all the sick patients and clever doctors are, no. This certain hospital (or church) was a very different type of hospital (or church).

In many ways, it was quite special. Because, as I have said, it was not just an ordinary hospital (or church, but we’ve got over that, haven’t we?). This hospital was for children. But not just normal children. Children who have had experiences that you, the lowly reader, will never be able to even imagine. If you could imagine them, they would both terrify you and blow your mind at the same time.

These children had the unfortunate, or perhaps fortunate, encounter with a near death experience. Now, that doesn’t sound too good, does it? Anyway, these children were all thrown into the hospital churchy-thingy and the doctor said,
“Righteo. All you children have had an experience that has shocked you. Live together and try not to have it again, okay?”

And away he went, brushing his hands on his trousers and whistling as if it was an everyday thing to crush the hopes of small lonely children. They never heard or saw another adult for three years. The children lived alone in the church, getting by on the scraps of food delivered each week by the postman. But he never came in to the church. Perhaps he was too vain, perhaps he was afraid. None will ever know.

Hello, I’m Nancy. Nancy Biggins, if you’re wondering. Sorry if my handwriting goes up down and all over the place. See, I’m a bit more nervous than usual today, although I’m always nervous. That is, because I’m going to visit this amazing church from absolutely ages ago. My mum is taking me. She’s really into History and religion, my mum is. She’s trying to get me into in, although I’m definitely not interested. I want to be a children’s doctor, but my mum says I’m too thick. Don’t be alarmed, she says it all the time.

“Nancy! Get yourself out of the car and stop scribbling in that notebook! Look where you’re going! Nan-..”
That was when I crashed into the wall. Typical of me, eh? I’m such a clumsy person sometimes. If I was a doctor I’d end up tripping over and needing a doctor myself! I did go to hospital once, when I was seven. I walked onto a road and an old man on an electric scooter knocked me over. I had a bruised head for weeks afterwards.

“Nancy! See these fabulous stained glass windows! I bet they look splendid from the inside. Come on, we’re going in!”
That’s my mum again, battering on about her prized stained glass. Our house is like a religious antique museum. I’ve wanted my own place for ages, but my mum won’t let me.

“You’re too irresponsible Nancy! If I gave you your own flat you’d wreck it in days!”
“But Mum, I’m seventeen! Everyone I know has their own flat!”

That part was a bit of a lie. Not the part about me being seventeen. I am. My birthday was in October. But the part about everyone I know having a flat. Most people I know do, mind you. I'm just too much of an....outsider.
There, I said it (well, wrote it). I’m an outsider. But who cares? Let’s get back to mum and her wretched historical churches. I’m sure you’re dead interested. Huh.

So, here comes the amazing part. Mum flung open the doors and marched in, dragging me behind her. A loud voice shouted out to me.

“Visitors!”

There was a murmur of curious and angry voices buzzing from the darkness behind the voice. Suddenly, someone flicked a switch and the lights sparked. I nwas intrigued, if a little scared. Mum, however, was positively pastel, her usually pink rosy cheeks pale and drawn.

It appeared, the voice had come from a girl who appeared to be about fourteen. She had long, tangled ginger hair and lots of freckles covering her skin. She looked friendly, but there was a coldness, an emptiness in her lifeless grey eyes that was almost frightening.

Another figured appeared, this time a boy, with lanky brown hair and the same cold eyes. It was scaring me to look at them.

I turned around to see Mum, white as a ghost, frozen on the spot.

“Are you okay?” I asked her nervously. She said nothing, just ran as fast as she could out of the church.

I glanced behind me, staring uneasily at the spot where my mother had been standing. I turned my eyes to the door, hearing it bang loudly, followed by the buzz of an engine.

I stepped forward and held out my hand to the first girl.

“Hello, I’m Nancy, what’s your name?” I asked.

“I’m Amber,” the girl said, shaking my hand slowly.

“Michael,” added the boy, running a hand through his hair.

“Wha…what are you doing here?” I just managed to get the words out.

“Long story,” mumbled Amber, but she looked dejected, so I changed tack.
“Is there anyone else…but you two?”

“Yes,” said Michael, his voice serious and mature, compared to Amber’s quiet but firm tone. “Five more”

A pause.

Come meet them if you want.” The offer was an afterthought.

“I think I will,” I said.

Amber and Michael both began to walk across the cold stone floor of the church, and I followed them, hoping neither of the children would see my legs trembling like jelly.

“Come on,” Michael said flatly, and began to walk up a set of rotting wooden stairs at the back of the church.
We eventually reached a passage way with three doors leading from it. Michael opened the first door on the left and called,
“Ezra? Robert? Peter?”
I was wondering why certain children had such strange names, but it was a question I wouldn’t yet be able to answer.
Michael showed me inside the room. Two boys, one with curly blonde hair and the other with odd spiky brown hair, were sitting on the floor. The older one was teaching the younger one how to write, scribbling letters in the dust with a stick.
The room was horribly bare, with four scratchy looking beds and grey linen sheets lining the room. There was one wardrobe, a big metal thing that looked like an old fashioned fridge.

There was another boy, very tanned with short hair, sitting on the bed nearest the wall, reading a book. Everyone was going about doing things as if they were normal people, but there was that familiar cold, empty look in each boy’s eyes . That same look that haunted Amber and Michael.

“Are they alright?” I asked Amber, as we exited the room and found ourselves back in the grim corridor. “They seem a bit…err…strange.”

“You haven’t seen strange yet,” Michael replied darkly, opening another door. “Meet Latise. She’s bonkers.”

“Hello, Latise,” I said nervously, wondering what this girl was going to be like.

Suddenly, a small, frail looking girl with thin black hair and a long black fringe bounded over to me.
“Hiya, I’m Latise, who are you? Wow I like your hair! It’s so pretty! And your jacket is great! Can I try it on?”
I was surprised at the enthusiasm of this small girl, a personality unlike the other children I had met. It made me want to laugh and cry at the same time, looking down at the girl who seemed so happy to be im such a bad situation.

“Latise,” Amber said coldly, bringing me out of my thoughts. “Don’t get yourself over excited. You know what happens.”

“Whatever, Amber,” Latise muttered and then turned back to me. She held out her hand politely. “How are you?” she asked.

“I’m fine, thank you Latise,” I replied, shaking the small girl’s hand. Her eyes, I noticed, had that same gloom that I had seen in all of the children’s eyes. I chose to ignore this fact and turned my eyes to the other girl in the room with Latise.
The girl was, very unmistakably, beautiful, with a dainty face as pale as a ghost and cropped white-blonde hair. But, again, she had the same, empty, helpless look in her eyes that made me both terrified and want to cry at the same time.
There was just something about all of the children in the church that was strange. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but it was there, and I needed to find out what it was.

The girl came up to me and held out her hand, just as Latise had.

“My name is Lyra,” she said, her voice soft and yet hard at the same time. “And you must be Nancy Biggins.”
“H…how…how did you know my name?” I stuttered, confused.

However, I did not receive a reply from Lyra, just a small smile.

I turned my attentions from the girl in front of me, to prevent myself from wondering, and looked around the room. It was depressingly identical to the boys’ room, with only three beds and the one wardrobe. The only splash of colour was a pendant tied securely around Lyra’s neck, a beautiful amethyst set into a silver locket.

Amber, seeing me looking, took me by the arm, gently, but her fingers seemed to grip into my arm and startle me.

“We must be going,” she said, leading me away with Michael in tow.

“Come back and visit soon!” Latise called, with a little wave as the door closed behind me. I felt tears well up in my eyes watching Latise wave so jauntily.

Amber, Michael and I began to walk down the other set of stairs at the end of the corridor, but going down, I noticed a dark door. I moved closer to it, causing Amber to spin around and shout,

“Nancy. Don’t go in there.”

Hi I'm Kenzie, and I'll be reviewing this today.

First of all, I think you have an interesting plot, that could be expanded well.

Anyway, the first part, you start it as a narrative, and sort of just introduce your story. Then you go into your main character's perspective. I found it a bit odd is all.

limegreenleopard wrote:A long time ago, in the future of the world, there was a hospital.

This beginning is a bit cliche. Also, I think you should re-word "in the future of the world." Maybe you could use a date, or a specific year.

limegreenleopard wrote:It wasn’t your everyday hospital where all the sick patients and clever doctors are, no. This certain hospital (or church) was a very different type of hospital (or church).

Now here, you start off using a both a church and a hospital.

limegreenleopard wrote:But he never came in to the church

But here, you call it a church. My suggestion would be to pick one, and stick to it. This will probobly just confuse the reader if you continue to switch between the two.

limegreenleopard wrote:“Righteo. All you children have had an experience that has shocked you. Live together and try not to have it again, okay?”

Okay, so I think that this doesn't sound very realistic. Dialogue is a very crucial part to the story, and it needs to be realistic. A good way to get some ideas is to simply listen/record conversations, just to get some examples of the ways people talk.

limegreenleopard wrote:None will ever know.

"None" should be "No one"

limegreenleopard wrote:Hello, I’m Nancy. Nancy Biggins, if you’re wondering. Sorry if my handwriting goes up down and all over the place. See, I’m a bit more nervous than usual today, although I’m always nervous

Coming right out and saying "Hello, I'm Nancy." isn't the best way to start out a story. When you come right out and tell the reader information, it only takes away from the story and the reader's interest. I suggest showing the reader instead of telling.

Also, Nancy apologizes for her handwriting, but the reader can't actually see her handwriting, since it's typed. Now I've seen books where the book looks like a journal, but just take into consideration that when reading it online we don't see that.

limegreenleopard wrote:an emptiness in her lifelesscomma grey eyes that was almost frightening.

There needs to be a comma after lifeless since there's two adjectives there.

One last thing, in my opinion, your story lacks a lot of detail. Always be sure to ellaborate, and always be specific, not vague.

Overall, pretty good start and it has potential. Keep writing! I hope I wasn't too harsh, and I hope I could help! ^-^

~Anchor

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