I have been putting together a novel. It is a murder mystery. I have been toying around with point of view. Below I have posted my Prologe. Please tell me which sound better or which flows better. Thanks:
PROGLOGE
I ran out of the room and left my whole family behind to call the nurse. I didn’t know why I left the room and out into the lonely, smelly hospital halls for the comfort of a nurse that I didn’t know that well, but I did. I had all of my family gathered around me, but I still left.
Even though it wasn’t a far walk to the nurse’s station it felt like it was ten miles down a dark dirt road. When I finally reached my desperate destination I yelled out and cried “Hurry it’s the end please come now!”
I ran back and felt the nurse running behind me fearing the worst. She walked into the room and stated it again what I had already said “Yes, it’s over I’m so sorry about your loss.” I kind of knew the nurse who stood in front of me her name was Jill. We had only met a couple of times but still I felt like she could feel my pain or maybe she just possessed the skill of empathy.
There she laid my life right in front of me the images of her face turning blue as she took her last breath. It still haunts me till this day. My mother was a strong Christian woman that thought me the morals she felt that I would need to possess in this now miserable life that I was about to face. Before she died I remembered what she told me something about how everyone has a time. “Everyone has a set amount of time on this earth, Eric, to do what God planted us here to do.” I said “What is it that he planted you on this Earth to do mother?” “To be a missionary and to touch the lives of people that I have been so grateful to have met and share the gospel of the Lord with them.” She said “And that is what I did, and now my time is ending near.”
I wasn’t even sure that I believed in God, but this explanation made more sense to me now than anything I had ever thought of. Who was this God so powerful that he allowed a nine teen year old like myself to loose his mother the only thing that I had left on this earth to rely on.
My family was all gathered at her bed side sobbing at her death. I felt like I had just left my body and was watching from a distant. My father peered at me and my siblings from across the crowed room. I had never witnessed my cold father cry before today. My mother was all he had thirty six years of marriage now over.
I suddenly felt the need to hurl. I ran out the bathroom and found myself wrapped around the ring of a dirty hospital toilet in the family waiting room down the hall. As I sat on the cold broken tiled floor I thought to myself what could have possibly been the cause of my mother’s death? I wasn’t in nursing school even 6 months but I had an idea of what the symptoms resembled.
Could it be? The Doctors called it a cancer, but I knew that her symptoms did not resemble any kind of cancer I had ever read about and they still couldn’t find the tumor. The chart was off limits to me and my family some kind of HIPPA violation the hospital workers mumbled. Her death had resembled a death I had witnessed before, one of a nine year old boy who died with hemophilia, actually he died from pneumonia. The death of this nine year old boy by the name of Brian had made headlines in our small town newspapers, and was the talk of the small nosey town’s gossip. It took place in the early nineties and people didn’t know much about it, I think fear was more cause for talk than the youngster’s death itself.
My thoughts were interrupted by the hospital attendant who looked at me with dismay and said “The Emergency room doctor has pronounced your mother dead, your family and the attending nurse would like to see you at the station to make further arrangements.”
I crawled off of the floor and went to the nurse’s station.
PROGLOGE
I ran out of the room and left my whole family behind to call the nurse. I didn’t know why I left the room and out into the lonely, smelly hospital halls for the comfort of a nurse that I didn’t know that well, but I did. I had all of my family gathered around me, but I still left.
Even though it wasn’t a far walk to the nurse’s station it felt like it was ten miles down a dark dirt road. When I finally reached my desperate destination I yelled out and cried “Hurry it’s the end please come now!”
I ran back and felt the nurse running behind me fearing the worst. She walked into the room and stated it again what I had already said “Yes, it’s over I’m so sorry about your loss.” I kind of knew the nurse who stood in front of me her name was Jill. We had only met a couple of times but still I felt like she could feel my pain or maybe she just possessed the skill of empathy.
There she laid my life right in front of me the images of her face turning blue as she took her last breath. It still haunts me till this day. My mother was a strong Christian woman that thought me the morals she felt that I would need to possess in this now miserable life that I was about to face. Before she died I remembered what she told me something about how everyone has a time. “Everyone has a set amount of time on this earth, Eric, to do what God planted us here to do.” I said “What is it that he planted you on this Earth to do mother?” “To be a missionary and to touch the lives of people that I have been so grateful to have met and share the gospel of the Lord with them.” She said “And that is what I did, and now my time is ending near.”
I wasn’t even sure that I believed in God, but this explanation made more sense to me now than anything I had ever thought of. Who was this God so powerful that he allowed a nine teen year old like myself to loose his mother the only thing that I had left on this earth to rely on.
My family was all gathered at her bed side sobbing at her death. I felt like I had just left my body and was watching from a distant. My father peered at me and my siblings from across the crowed room. I had never witnessed my cold father cry before today. My mother was all he had thirty six years of marriage now over.
I suddenly felt the need to hurl. I ran out the bathroom and found myself wrapped around the ring of a dirty hospital toilet in the family waiting room down the hall. As I sat on the cold broken tiled floor I thought to myself what could have possibly been the cause of my mother’s death? I wasn’t in nursing school even 6 months but I had an idea of what the symptoms resembled.
Could it be? The Doctors called it a cancer, but I knew that her symptoms did not resemble any kind of cancer I had ever read about and they still couldn’t find the tumor. The chart was off limits to me and my family some kind of HIPPA violation the hospital workers mumbled. Her death had resembled a death I had witnessed before, one of a nine year old boy who died with hemophilia, actually he died from pneumonia. The death of this nine year old boy by the name of Brian had made headlines in our small town newspapers, and was the talk of the small nosey town’s gossip. It took place in the early nineties and people didn’t know much about it, I think fear was more cause for talk than the youngster’s death itself.
My thoughts were interrupted by the hospital attendant who looked at me with dismay and said “The Emergency room doctor has pronounced your mother dead, your family and the attending nurse would like to see you at the station to make further arrangements.”
I crawled off of the floor and went to the nurse’s station.
