WinkWave

Wink 20

Roaming through the white hallways, collecting the elderly folk for dinner, I stumbled across Belle. She always wanders aimlessly around the halls, trying to figure out something to do. Usually it consists of showing people 'her baby,' which is an enormous stuffed dog that floods her lap.
    "Help! Help me!"
    I sanitized my hands quickly with the solution on the wall before dropping to her level, making eye contact. "Hey Belle," I soothed the older lady. "What's wrong?"
    She sighed and shook her head, using her good foot to scoot her wheelchair closer to me. "Oh honey," she breathed as if the world was ending. "I don't know what to do!" Her blue eyes were depressed as she eagerly studied my face. "I just can't seem to change my baby! Can you do it?" She tugged at the brown fur of the bulldog. Horror struck her features. "I think he has nails in his flesh!"
    I petted the dog. "I don't think his clothes need changing Belle. I think he is just thirsty."
    "Really?" Hope lit up her face and she smiled at me, patting my arm. "Would you go get him a glass with some water? Oh honey, he is just the sweetest thing."
    "Sure!" I responded, smiling back. "How about I'll take you to the kitchen with me. That way you can get some dinner and your baby can have a drink at the same time!" After she nodded, I pushed her toward the kitchen, proud that I achieved solving two problems at the same time.
    After getting her settled at table five, I headed off to the tap for some cold, clear cup of water with a sippy lip. The water flowed from the tap and I put the cup under the rushing liquid.
    "I don't know why you do that," one of my coworkers mumbled, strutting past me. "She's way too old to have a baby. You shouldn't play along with her games. It makes things worse." She flicked her hair as she snatched a brownie from the counter.
    "Games?" I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "That's her life! I aim to make the elderly as happy as they can. I don't care if that involves pretending Belle has a baby." I snapped the lid onto a cup and waved to another senior as he entered the dining room. He winked at me.
    Alicia rolled her eyes. "But seriously. She needs to 'grow up' in a sense and face reality."
    "And what is her reality?" I asked astonished, choking on my own words. "Dying?"
    Shrugging her shoulders, Alicia turned away. "It is going to happen soon. She might as well face up to it."
    "And so what?" I raged, trying to keep my voice down so I didn't disrupt the other elderly. I blocked Alicia's path. "What difference is it going to make if Belle wants to pretend to be young again and have a baby, compared to her fretting everyday about how many more days, hours, or seconds she has to live?" Without waiting for an answer, I supplied myself one. "I'll tell you, Alicia. She is going to be happy. She is going to enjoy the rest of her life in this reality that she has subconsciously made for herself. And I would rather see her in this reality, then in distress." I turned on my heel and headed back to table five, where Belle smiled brightly at me.
    "Thank you honey. My baby is so thirsty, he is going to shrivel up any minute now!"
    I smiled and held her hand. "Anytime, Belle. Anytime."

Teachers notes: I am not sure if this would make the 6, but if not it would be very close.  Well done!  The idea is great and you have strong voice.  I love the "floods her lap" part.  Always try to include a couple of those brilliant word choices; they add so much.