Sara McCartney slammed the door of her rental car and walked through the high-rise parking garage to the line of elevators. She pulled her new coat—especially bought for this trip—tightly around her as the frigid October air worked its way through the fine linen of her cream-colored trousers.
As she waited for the elevator to take her to the third
floor, Sara shuffled the flowers she was holding into her other arm so that she
could pull out her phone and rechecked the message from her sister.
Room 5386. Cardiology.
Fourth door on your right past the nurses’ station.
Sara clicked the phone off and put it back as the elevator
in front of her nosily slid open. She gave it a dubious glance before
cautiously stepping in and pressing her floor.
Our Lady of Mercy was the only hospital close enough to send
an ambulance when her father felt the telltale pressure in his chest during a
hard day at the store. And although Sara was thankful that they had managed to
save her father’s life, she decided that as soon as he was capable of moving
she was getting him transferred to a real city hospital like the University of
Pennsylvania. Somewhere that at least appreciated the value of aesthetics and
bothered to replace the elevators, she thought.
Sara entered the Cardiac wing, the click of her heels loud
in the deserted hallway. She felt her heart start to pick up speed as she
passed the first door, then the second, both dark and empty. Where is everyone? Sara thought,
resisting the urge to recheck her phone. Ahead she saw a nurse dressed in
cartoon character scrubs exit one of the rooms on the right with a pile of
blankets in her arms. Was that the fourth door? Sara turned her head to be sure
she had only passed two rooms. She finally heard the low murmur of voices as
she passed the nurses’ station and came up to the third room, which was also
empty. She heard a quickly muffled sob and, clutching the flowers, she raced to
the next open doorway and saw two nurses and a doctor in her father’s room,
leaning over his bed. Her mother was sitting in a chair by the window facing
them, holding her sister Emily tightly as she sobbed. Silent tears ran down
Emily’s cheeks as she met Sara’s eyes from across the room. Sara looked back
toward the bed and realized belatedly that she hadn’t heard the heartbeat
monitor. She looked up at where it was supposed to be and saw nothing but a
flat orange line. Her father was dead.
I wrote this last night as a potential opening to my "Like Father" story as my graduate school submission. I wasn't going to have Sara's father die before she could see him one last time, and honestly, I don't know if that was the right move to make. The concept of the story is that Sara takes over the business from her father, figures out that The Bad Guy has been sabotaging them for the last several years, "defeats" him, and really moves back home and takes over the business and makes it her own. With her father dying in the hospital, will Sara have that same motivation to come back and fulfill (what I've roughly outlined) as the story plot?
See, last night I went to bed thinking no, but this morning I had an epiphany: I'm going to do some research and finds out what could be something that would make a heart attack go very wrong. I don't want the hospital blamed, though (of course) knowing Sara that's the first person she runs over to sue and kick some ass on. No, I want the hospital to do an autopsy and find out that someone had slipped him some sort of drug or something that reacted badly during the surgery and that was what ultimately killed him. Of course Sara's mom, whose been taking care of him, wouldn't have known that someone slipped it to him. Sara now knows that her father was murdered, and of course she's going to want to know who did it. Again, so she can exact revenge. (Clearly, my girl is not someone to mess around with, HAHA.)
So what do you think of my idea so far? totally lame? As a writer who's been reading some pretty bad books lately and giving everyone a hard time about their fundamentals, I want some feedback on my own. Nothing is better than a close (outside) eye on a story. When I write more tonight I'll post it tomorrow for review....... that is, if I can! Hubby and I are taking Buddy on his first beach trip down to Cape May, apparently there are some awesome beaches for dogs down there. Surf's up! :)
But, knowing Buddy, this will be our dog....
(from http://www.stjohnsuntimes.com/node/2236)
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