Mercy Grace Berningham

My sweaty palms gripped the green sheets bunched up around me. It seemed like the
world had used up its oxygen. My breath came in short, rattling wheezes. I tossed and turned,
my sight blurred by angry and pain-filled tears. I couldn’t think; all I knew was that I was
suffocating. The small streak of light from my parents flashlight bounced around the corner of
my bedroom door, followed by my mom’s gasps and three beeps, no doubtedly from my dad’s
smartphone. My mom knelt by the side of my bed, crying and telling me that I was going to be
OK. My chest felt like it was on fire.
It seemed like a thousand years later before I heard the faint screaming of the
ambulance’s siren. Suddenly, the noise in the room swelled as a half a dozen men entered my
small bedroom. I felt myself being lifted off of my damp sheets and placed carefully onto a
stretcher. I strained my neck, searching frantically for any trace of satisfying air. A cold
sensation reached me as the men carried me out the front door. The night sky above me
flickered with red and blue. My ears felt numb and throbbed with every small noise. The
atmosphere around me changed dramatically as I was lifted into the ambulance. The huge
double doors behind me banged shut deafeningly. I felt a mask being placed over my nose and
mouth, and a sickeningly sweet smell and taste met my numbed senses. I drifted off to a
troubled sleep.
I woke with a start as I felt a sharp pain from the IV in my wrist. Looking around, I saw that
I was in the ER and a doctor and nurse were hustling around, checking on me, and looking at
the medical computers. The burning feeling in my chest hadn’t subsided and, without warning, a
deep sting in my chest gained power over me. The world went black.
I don’t know how long I was like this, but when I woke up and looked around, I saw my dad
sitting at the foot of the bed with his face in his hands and my mom was holding my hand and
sobbing into her lap. I gently squeezed the hand that clung to mine and, startled, mom jerked
her head up to see me. I smiled at her, “Hi mom.” She burst into tears, eyes full of relief and
shock. Dad rushed over, his face full of joy. The doctor, hearing the commotion, rushed in and
looked at the monitor. “I don’t believe it. It’s a miracle!” He exclaimed. “She’s going to be fine!”
My name is Mercy Grace Berningham, and I lived.