Andrew, Kelvindale

Transcription

The first thing I saw when I woke up was a dark orange sky, with a rather lot of rusty red clouds floating in it.

I got up and found I had been lying on a street with lots of litter.

“Where am I?” I thought aloud.

“Yer in Glasgow kid, and you ain’t lookin’ too good either,” said a gruff voice from behind me.

“Um, what date is it?” I enquired as I turned around to see the source of the gruff voice.

“2068 kid, you escaped from the mad house or somethin’?” said the tall, strong looking man with a large amount of unkempt hair on his head and a quantity to match on his face. He was wearing a long green robe tied around his waist with a band of flexible plastic. His shoes had long, curly toes and had electric locks instead of laces or Velcro. “What are you looking at?” he said.

Then a flying robot zoomed down from the sky, as it went screaming robotically, “SICK PERSON FOUND, TAKING TO HOSPITAL IMMEDIATELY!” It squirted blue liquid into my open mouth and it all went black.

I awoke on a hospital bed with confused looking nurses standing around me.

“It’s a terminal brain illness, Floppynuerotide.”

“Tragic, will we be able to cure him?”

“I don’t know, perhaps with that new De-floppynuerotide treatment – but the health board probably won’t give us permission to.“

“Hey! They gave us permission, the boy will live!” shouted a plump nurse, running down the lines of patients lying in beds.

“Yay!” shouted the nurses.

“Take him through to the doctor then!” Said another nurse.

My bed was lifted up and taken through the swing doors to a long, white, gleaming corridor. At the end of the corridor was a doorway to an operation room. Inside the room was a robot with 10 arms! Each arm had a claw at the end and in each claw was a scary looking instrument.

“Good day,” said the robot.

“What are you going to do to me?” I replied, panicking.

“I am going to give you a brain transplant.”