Sustainable

Chapter Nine - Surrey, England

Emma

"Right," I sighed deeply and stared at the exam paper that lay on the rickety folding table ahead of me. "Come on, Em." I silently coached myself. "You did great on your mocks."

I glared at the blank page in the hope that the answer would form in my head from the sheer force of will. I sighed again, slumping back into my equally rickety chair. "My brain in blank."

My self confidence took a major hit, and I felt my certainty slip away from me like sand beneath my feet. I furrowed by brow and forced myself to concentrate. "Right. 'Describe and explain the function of Golgi bodies.'" I wracked my brains, to no avail. I looked up and around the exam hall, and I saw a sea of students scribbling frantically with their heads down. I frowned; apparently, everyone else found this easy. Glancing at the huge clock that hung in the front of the room, I groaned. Half an hour. In the hour we had been in here, so far I'd achieved a U for correctly writing my name. I looked at the next question.

'Using the blank paper provided, sketch an accurate diagram of the Fluid Mosaic Model and label accordingly.'

A gasp sounded in the room, which I ignored. Last thing I need is another distraction. I began to draw a series of circles, and beside them scrawled 'phospholipid molecule'. That, I remembered, at least. I began to draw the protein molecules when the gasp turned into a yelp, and I looked up to see an examiner fall to the ground. Students and teachers looked at one another in confusion, unsure of what procedures to follow. The examiner who had collapsed, a young looking thirty-something year old woman, had fallen only a foot or so away from me, and I grew concerned. Another teacher, who I recognised as Mr Philips, began to run across the hall to the fallen woman, picking her up while shouting frantically at the other teachers. Mrs Samson, a tender fifty year old, led us all out of our seats and towards the door gingerly, without saying a word. I snuck another glance at the woman while standing up, and noticed that her lips had turned an unhealthy shade of blue.

Pulling away from Mrs Samson's soft grip, I ran to her side, pushing her auburn hair away from her now clammy face. Beads of sweat covered her brow, and her chest was still. "She's not breathing!" I cried, my concern causing my voice to falter slightly. "Look, her lips... we need to help her breathe..." I began to push hard on her chest, and ordered a bewildered Mr Philips to continue giving CPR. "Has someone called an ambulance?" I yelled, and a teacher I didn't recognize nodded nervously. I turned back to the woman, and a gasp left my mouth. In my head was a whirlwind of information; from stroke symptoms to epilepsy. It took me by surprise, and I took a step back. My mouth formed a word I wasn't even really familiar with, and it caused several teachers to stare at me in surprise.

"Miss Carling, are you sure? That is a very precise diagnosis you're putting forward-" Mr Philips uttered, and I sent a fierce glare in his direction. "Just do it!" I screamed, and before he could begin, two paramedics burst in, armed with a stretcher. The first paramedic, a forty-something man, pulled me away gently while his partner worked on the woman.

I looked down and realized I was shaking, and tried to remember what I had just experienced. A total wave of information - information about things I knew nothing of - had just possibly appeared out of nowhere. Mr Philips was speaking to a paramedic and nodding towards me, and I felt a surge of panic. What had I just done?

The male paramedic smiled warmly at me, and asked me to go to the hospital. "Miss," he began, touching my shoulder gently. "You just saved this woman's life."