** 1ST PLACE WINNER in THE ANGEL AWARDS 2017, FANFICTION CATEGORY**
Illidan picked Sarah up, cradling her to his chest. To all assembled he spoke, "We go to Suramar, there we will bring an end to the Legion." Glancing down at the body of the young w...
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Sitting in the doctor's waiting room, Sarah bit down hard on her lip. This was pointless. The doctor could do nothing for her. She had a few minor scrapes and grazes all perfectly treatable by washing and applying some antiseptic cream if needed. The really serious injury, however, was beyond the doctor's medical capabilities. He could not mend a broken heart.
She toyed with the idea of just getting up and walking out. Her employer would be none too happy if she did though. She had insisted she was fine following the "car accident", but they insisted more and told her she had to attend appointments to make sure she was fit for work.
Her lip throbbed from her bite. Nibbling at it again, she felt it slightly swollen, tender. She huffed. Maybe that would give the doctor something to scribble an illegible prescription for at least:
Symptoms: throbbing lip
Cause: biting arising from the complete waste of time spent in the health centre waiting room
Treatment: prescribed by doctor - 200mg Paracetamol, four times a day and a tube of Blisteze. Self-prescribed - 750ml South African Shiraz, daily.
Case Notes: Complete loon, believes she was ensconced in another world (Azeroth – from a video game), saved the King, snogged an elf and shagged a silver-haired Archmage a few (wonderful) times. Also claims she assisted in saving Earth from an invasion of demons and a hideous orc warlock following pillow-talk with said Archmage. Later banished from make-believe world by Khadgar (the Archmage) - (aka approximately 1129 x 1036 multi-coloured pixels on computer screen).
Rehab: Blizz Con
"Yeah, right!" she mumbled, her utterance drawing a peculiar look from the only other patients there, a mother-of-two who sat next to her with one screaming child in her arms and the other buried knee-high in the communal toy box.
She crossed her right leg over the left knee and stared at the clock on the wall above the entrance. Her appointment had been ten minutes ago. Not only was the appointment a waste of time but they had the nerve to make her wait extra minutes? This was time in which she could be doing something useful – like robotically stuffing envelopes with patronising letters to clients, or filling out a spreadsheet with formulas and figures to bamboozle the Board into thinking the company was doing great. Or, better still, just sit at home with a bottle of wine in one hand and her "talisman" from the demon-hunter of a make-believe universe, in the other.
She patted her jeans pocket, absentmindedly checking the strange little pebble was still there. It was. Her lips formed an involuntary lop-sided smile.
The mother-of-two must have noted a look of quiet asininity on Sarah's face and moved herself across to the opposite line of uniformed seating.
Sarah took a deep breath and exhaled quite loudly. Another look at the clock informed her she was now fifteen minutes past her appointment time. Her eyes scanned the walls and came to rest on the DNA notice near the reception.
"Did Not Attends" waste doctors valuable time and prevent other patients from receiving critical medical care. Should you be unable to keep your appointment, please call to advise us and we will reschedule your appointment." The notice then went on to give percentages of DNAs within the last year and the impact they had on resources and expenditure for the NHS.
Sarah wondered if the same applied for patients whose time was equally wasted by doctors who seemed unable to provide a prognosis in the allotted times given for said appointments.
"Caroline Johnstone," a voice announced to the right. Sarah's doctor stood waiting as the mother-of-two gathered her brats and scuttled through to the doctor's office.
Sarah slumped in her chair. Elune only knows how long they're going to take! she thought. She 'hmphed' as she realised the deity she had just called upon. And how long was it going to take to stop that nonsense, she wondered next.
Everything was different now. Not good, but not exactly bad either, just - altered. Having been removed from an MMORPG she now found herself in a sterile GPWRRL (General Practitioner's Waiting Room Real Life). She was supposed to be recovering from a car accident but her injuries were not accredited to any pile up.
Hers was emotional; caused by a man who was not even supposed to exist. The trauma was very real though – the heartbreak, crippling. She felt rejected, betrayed, used. Since her return to 'reality' she had conjured a myriad of scenarios all fuelled by the "what if" prompt and not one of them seemed remotely possible. She had been evicted from the world of Azeroth and there was no resurrection spirit to allow her back, no blinding green light to transport her through, nothing at all that could...
"Sarah Metcalfe."
She looked up, startled to hear her name being called at last. With a soft whoosh the automatic door closed behind the mother-of-two. It then promptly re-opened as Sarah's doctor hovered near it, clearly waiting for her to get up and follow him through to his office.
With one more subconscious pat of the pebble in her pocket, Sarah rose and walked through to the doctor's surgery.
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Thank you for joining me on the second outing for Sarah Metcalfe. I hope you enjoy this.
I am in the process of re-editing it so each day hopefully, the chapters will flow better.
All comments, advice and suggestions are most welcome, I love feedback. Should you like the chapters, please be kind enough to vote by clicking on the voting stars, it would be most appreciated.
