I took an English class a couple years ago...and this was one of my favorite essays:) It is also an interesting, and true experience that really did happen *smile* Enjoy!
(Not sure why format is all spread out like this...but oh well:)
“Does anyone know CPR?” Eldora’s clear urgent voice rang out above the din
of my sister’s screams. It was Tuesday afternoon and I was in the hot upstairs room
of Eldora’s house. Eldora, my painting teacher, is a sweet elderly lady whose cheerful
spirit and step-by-step guidance made painting a pleasure. Every Tuesday I would go
with my sister and five other friends to Eldora’s little white house in Blair. We would walk as slow as we could (without attracting notice) through her living room to look and gaze in wonder that simple white china could be transformed into gorgeous flowers that seemed to nod their heads in
the breeze and animals looking at us through playful painted eyes would wonder why we
weren’t spending time with them. As we tromped upstairs with all our boxes and
supplies none of dreamed that today would be a day that we would never forget.
As I started to unpack my stuff, brushes, oil, paint and other supplies I looked
over and saw the pieces that I was working on. I had started on Sunflowers last week
with Ellie. Ellie is such fun to work with. She always has a smile on her pretty face,
and a laugh that would make even the sternest person smile. As I glanced about the
room, my eye fell on Lydia her younger sister. She looked up at me and gave me a
smile and a cheerful “hi”. Grace was sitting next her, busily wiping out what she had
just painted, something that often fit into her style of painting. “Grace,” I said with a
grin “your palette is so messy and you know Eldora said not to use Q-tips to wipe off
your paint.” “I’m not using them,” she replied looking guilty as she slipped them to the trash
can at her feet (which had a little pile of q-tips already there) “plus a messy palette
means I’m a good painter.” This was greeted with a laugh all about the room. We
continued to talk, laugh, tease, paint and (some of us) wipe out till the day flew by.
I finished putting the last touches on my painting and placed it on the tray to go
downstairs, then grabbed a big folder filled with The China Painter magazines and sat
down to look at it. Alatheia was sitting next to me painting, and would occasionally
add a remark about a picture she liked. She was the artist among us. Her paintings
were always beautiful and filled with life. “Oh, that one’s cute” she said, but I wasn’t
listening. My head hit the table with a resounding thud, and the folder went crashing
to the floor. Immediately everyone looked my way. Mrs. Larsen, Alatheia’s mother
who thought I had just made a mistake looked over from across the room and
remarked, “Oh it can’t be that bad, Anna.” I didn’t respond. Worry printed itself across
Alatheia’s face. She took a hold of me to lift me up, but I was dead weight. She tried to
pull me up and I whammed against the back of my chair head back, arms out and just
the whites of my eyes showing.
Mrs. Larsen leapt out of her seat and raced around the table, like a dog was a her heels. My sister Esther took one glance at me, thought I was dead and fell to the floor sobbing. “Does anybody know CPR?” Eldora’s clear urgent voice rang out as Esther’s screams rent the air. “Grace, go get the phone and call 991,” she said trying gain control of the panic that was rising. Grace immediately rushed downstairs screaming with Lydia hard on her heels. “Call 911,” Lydia yelled as she and Grace raced up and down the stairs in sheer panic. Alatheia, not knowing
what else to do, dropped to the floor to quiet my sister’s screams, which were getting
louder as the moments flew. “Anna, can you hear me?” Mrs. Larsen fought to
maintain a steady voice. Her words fell on deaf ears. “Anna,” she said more urgently.
Ellie just sat where she was, trying to gain control of her thoughts and remember the
steps to CPR. “Anna,” Mrs. Larsen said again. Somewhere in the back of my mind,
seemingly coming from a distance, I heard Mrs. Larsen’s steady controlled voice and
Esther’s panicked one, both slowly bringing me back to existence. “What happened,”
I mumbled rubbing my right eye which was still smarting from the blow it received
when it met the table. “You just passed out and scared us out of our wits,” someone
said behind me. “Put your head between your knees,” Eldora said her voice not as
controlled as it used to be. My face started pouring out sweat like rain as I did her
bidding. “Is... is she alive?” Esther said not believing the obvious, for the picture of
me lying there was still fresh before her. “I’m fine,” I said shaking uncontrollably and
very confused. “Good,” said Eldora, “let’s just get you downstairs.” After getting
seated in a comfortable chair downstairs with a glass of cold water, Grace told me
everything that happened. They had all my sympathy, for Grace’s face told me that that
was one of the most frightening things that had happened to her and everybody else
that was present.
