From the perspective of a floor

I can't blog. I've tried, and tried several times over the past two weeks, and nothing i start has seemed to be finished. So i decieded to take a break from writing and publish some of my favorite pieces from my english class this year; Creative Writing.

There is no real title, and no real idea just me; being creative.

The prompt was; to write from the perspective of a freshly scrubbed floor.


I am the place people dread the most, the place that is so sanitary you can see your own reflection on me. I am the floor of the ICU at McClaren Macomb Hospital.

Every things white; the floor, ceiling, walls and even the beds. Every things in its place. Then they roll a new patient in, his bed takes up quite a lot of room on me, but i don't mind because he's familiar. His voice, he's been here before.

Once, everything seemed so right, so quiet, so clean. Now, people are yelling, there feet sprinting towards the man. Machines are going off, someone yells; "He's going into V-fib!"  Then hear; "CLEAR!" Forces of electricity rushing through his body, now more doctor. All running, shouting trying to help the man.

That's when i hear him, he's coughing, he can't stop. Then i feel it. His blood, it's all over me. The doctors scatter around the room in more of a frantic mood and start shaking him again. This time, it's too late. One of the doctors now yells; "Time of death, 12:21 am.

Once so innocent, so sterile, so white, is now covered with a dead mans blood.

Then i smell it, the sterilizer. They're washing me. Trying to hide the scent and color of what once was.

I can still smell it, the mans blood. They may have thought it was all gone, but i can't forget it.

Then she comes running in the room, a girl. She screams and drops to her knees. Warmth from the tears falling from her eyes soak through me. She screams, "Daddy!"

In the beginning, i was happy, i was white, clean, pure. Now, the mans blood leaves a stain on me. One that no-one other than i can feel.

Although i may appear clean, the stains of peoples blood is soaked in me, i am filthy.


Okay, so i guess i am going to write about this one. Because, while i was crafting it, i was really going through a hard time with the one year date coming up. And when Mrs. Reifert introduced the topic was writing from the floors perspective, in my head at first i was like, oh great this is going to be boring. Then i put headphones in, and was trying to think about a floor that has meaning to me. Then i thought about the floor at my church. And i was going to start writing about that, but church for the most part is a place where i'm happy. I wasn't in a mood to write about that kind of stuff. So i thought, thought and thought. Then Mrs. Reifert suggested doing it at our workplace, a post office, or a hospital. And that's when it clicked.

This piece of writing really helped me come to better understanding with McClaren. I don't like that place at all, but i'm  not so angry towards it.