This
is a revised version of my second flash fiction piece, which was very much
based on emotion and character interactions. It was also very unfinished, very
unsure of what it wanted to be. Originally I focused the story on Dana, but
when rewriting the tale, I realized it worked better if Heather was our window
into the story. I also refocused the story onto the time leading up to the
surgery itself, which was difficult; I really want to follow up on the concept
of a modern day, medically-created mermaid, but I think The Morning Of
works better if the audience doesn't know if the surgery goes well. I wanted to make a story where plastic surgery isn't demonized nor glorified; it just is. This piece
showcases my skills with dialogue, along with my love for mixing the
supernatural with drama between characters. The fact that I resolved to return
and edit this immediately after writing the original was the final sign that
this revised piece belonged in my portfolio.
The Morning Of
Heather looked out
the window of her hospital room and smiled. She brushed a hair back and turned
her head to look at the entrance to her room. Dana was supposed to be visiting
soon. She had to hurry; the operation was only twenty minutes away. Less,
hopefully. I need it to be less, I want
to do it now.
Dana suddenly
entered her vision, dressed in grey and scarves and glasses and frizziness.
“Dana!” Heather cried out. Dana smiled and hugged her, then pulled
up a chair.
“I’d offer you a coffee, but I’m guessing you can’t eat anything,”
Dana apologized, sipping her latte. Heather shook her head.
“No, it’s okay. I’m so excited, I don’t even care.” Lattes were
her favorite.
Dana looked up at the clock. “You’re still excited?”
“I’ve been excited every day for a month,” Heather said.
“Because if you’re not, Heather, it’s okay. You can still back
out.” Dana’s mouth shifted to one side of her face, and she reached out a hand
to Heather’s. “You can totally still back out. No one would blame you, it’s
such a risky-“
“Dana,” Heather cut off, “ I want to do this. I’ve thought about
it so much, and having this conversation one more time? It’s not good for
either of us.” Heather smiled and squeezed Dana’s hand. “I’m ready for new
adventures, Dana. I’m ready to go to places no one else has ever been, to be
the first person to do this.”
“There are so many better ways to go about having adventures,”
Dana said, her voice choking up a bit, “so many better ways.”
“There were so many better ways to…” Heather struggled to think of
an analogy that would help Dana understand. Dana, blogger. Dana, tennis
champion. Dana, physics major. “Beat the big scary Russians. There were lots of
better ways to do that, but we went to the moon. I want to go to the moon,
Dana.”
Dana’s tears fell freely now. “The moon was so much safer than
this. They’d been planning for years.”
“They've been planning this for years, too. They've tested it on
animals already, and it’s worked.”
“You’re not a rat, Heather…you’re my best friend.” She grabbed
Heather with her arms and held her tight. “I-I’m sorry, I- I’m just really
scared, I don’t want anything to-to-“
Heather hugged her back, whispering comfort until the doctors came
to take her away. She said a little prayer that the surgery would work, and
that Dana wouldn’t be too scared.
The operating room was filled with doctors, nurses, people in
white and blue and violet.
“Count backwards from fifty, Heather,” said one doctor, masked…the
voice was kind and familiar, though. “When you wake up, you’ll be…”
“…the world’s first mermaid,” Heather finished sleepily. She
drifted into a future, full of hope and anesthesia.
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