When a story tells of a girl with lungs full of liquid and a boy with a heart full of courage, only time can tell of the events that are to come.
STARTED: 03.21.17
COMPLETED: ??.??.??
[ INSPIRED BY THE MOVIES ]
[ FIRST DRAFT OF "SMILE" ]
[ FIRST BOO...
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"Alana," she heard a voice say. Then the voice had repeated itself, but instead said her full name, "Alana Wallace." She blinked away the sleepiness from her eyes and Alana had came to the conclusion that she had fallen asleep beside the fireplace, comforted by its warmth.
A woman in scrubs had been softly patting Alana's shoulder urgently, wanting to wake her up from her slumber.
Alana groaned and asked the woman: "What is it?"
"Your parents are here. They've been here for a while waiting for the staff to find you since at first they would expect for you to have been in your room."
"Oh," Alana sighed. She sat up and saw her parents nearby, looking over at their daughter perhaps concerned or disgusted; Alana could not tell the difference. "I missed you two. It's been a long time."
The Hufflepuff then embraced each other her parents who had been surprised by Alana's unusual behavior that had not been accustomed with.
Mr. Wallace raised an eyebrow while Mrs. Wallace smiled slightly. They had both missed their daughter in truth — their daughter who had existed before being diagnosed. But Alana Wallace's self had been a much more mature and improved version compared to her previous state.
She felt herself beginning to whimper, but Alana breathed slowly to calm down her lungs. She in truth, had definitely missed her parents; and Alana also in truth had felt that she would soon be ready to leave St. Mungos Hospital. "How long will it take until I make my departure from this place?" the girl asked aloud, waiting for an answer by either her parents or the woman who woke her, who had also been tidying up the almost-empty lobby room.
The silence hung in the air like a scent that urged whomever had came in-contact with it to distinguish what it had been.
Her mother, Maurice Wallace, had spoken up first. "Well, soon enough. That's for sure," she exclaimed, swaying her hands every which way as if grace had been her cup of tea. Alana scowled, her mother never gave a definite answer; it had seemed as though most of the time her parents had treated everyone, including each other, orderly and formal.
"And what would you mean mean by that?" Alana spoke up, rather loud. But she had her reasons as to why she may speak to her parents in such a way: she had been here for days, having not received a letter from them, not even a poster — and they had expected her to have been pleased and kind to them when they had came here without now previous notice? Especially when her mother had not given her a definitive response to a distant answer that Alana had been wishing for immensely. She had then decided to guess durations of time, that could have possibly been one of the answers to her question, "A month, two weeks; one?"
The Wallace parents frowned and Aronn Wallace had spoken up, rather unimpressed by his daughter, "Not long, we promise you that, Alana. One week, at most. Not at all long."
And so Alana had been reassured of her departure from the hospital. For the rest of the time the two Wallace parents stayed at the hospital they both had talked with their daughter and had said their goodbyes to her; and had left from the hospital.
"Why couldn't of we have told her?" Maurice Wallace hissed, rather annoyed at her husband. They had been driving back to their mansion, and the night had been dark and cold.
"We couldn't, dear. It would be too public, even if no one had been sitting in the lobby." Aronn yawned, "St. Mungos have been known to record all conversations within their premises."
A silence came, until Maurice Wallace had broken it: "She should be told soon."
"Alana will be told this summer, I promise Mauri'."
