Creative Writing: The Shining By Stephen King

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If I try to think back to a time when reading had an impact on me I immediately think of a bright blue-eyed woman. She was slim with long blonde hair. Her real name was Charlotte Elaine Hathaway but, I called her Memaw. Her friends and family called her Lanie, she never liked the name Charlotte. My mom always told me that I was close to Lanie because she was the first person to hold me when I was born. I can remember spending weeks at a time at Memaws house. Some of our favorite things to do together were coloring in coloring books and putting together big puzzles. But our absolute favorite thing to do, was to read books together. For as long as I can remember my Memaw was my best friend. Little did I know, she would be the person to teach …show more content…
I watched Spring drift away and summer come. I watched the rain stop falling and the sun start rising. I watched her favorite pink flowers bloom and come to life. Something I wasn’t sure that would happen to her. I read book after book to her as she laid lifeless in the hospital bed. Her favorite author was Stephen King so I would read her favorite chapters out of his books. Her favorite book was “The Shining” by Stephen King. I read her about half of the book until I realized that there would be one specific book that she would have read if she had the chance. I read her the entire “Wizard of Oz” book. It was our book, the book that taught me how to read, and the book that I knew would always bring us back together. It wasn’t long after finishing the book that I received a call on July 4th to come into the hospital. I remember walking into the hospital that night and it felt different. It still smelled of strong cleaning chemicals. Everything still looked the same. The walls were white and the hallways were long and empty. But on July 4th the feeling around me was different. I walked into room 347 and looked at my best friend while she laid in the hospital bed with no tubes and no breathing machines moving up and down. She looked pale and her face was sunken in. I could feel lumps in my throat start to form as I held back the overwhelming number of tears and emotions I was feeling until I couldn’t anymore. I sunk to the grown crying hysterically because in that moment I knew she was gone. All of the hope I had filled myself with that she was going to wake up was gone. I laid on the floor until my body didn’t feel numb anymore. I gained the strength to stand up and go to her side and I sat there holding her hand for hours. After over hearing the doctors talk to my dad they told him it was a heart attack that caused the initial illness. My parents already knew that though, they told me it was chest pains to
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