Read Hello God for Free Online

I ignored it as it dribbled onto the floor.
    ‘Why did it happen?’ I asked Mum.
    How could it happen? I liked her. She was my best friend. It couldn’t happen. I was to blame, I told Mum, though you, God, played a big part in it. After all, I didn’t intend it to go this far. I thought she’d be sick for a day, that was all.
    Mum didn’t understand what I was talking about.
    I told her how I’d asked you to make Steph sick so she wouldn’t come to dinner that night a few months ago. That you and I had been very stupid, God.
    Mum came over to me and ran her hands through my hair and kissed my cheek and told me I didn’t make Steph sick. She’d been sick for a long time. No one can make people sick by wishing them so. And that you, God, didn’t have anything to do with this. It was my thought. Not especially a nice one, but we all have bad thoughts from time to time. Sometimes these things just happen and no one knows why.
    She said I could visit Steph in hospital. A big rope knotted my stomach.
    Is Steph really so sick? Does that mean she could die? No, that isn’t possible. Kids don’t die. They live to ripe old ages, get married and have children and one day they babysit their grandchildren. Most of them do, anyway. Steph will do that. Won’t she?
    The treatment has to work. So, God, it’s over to you. I want you to make her better. The doctors are going to try, but they need help.
    And please, give me a sign, any sign, that you’ve received this message. I need to know you’ve heard me.

Hello God,

    The hospital is a stone building with large windows and a bitumen driveway. Beside the driveway are garden beds filled with purple and red flowers. There’s a cheery sign out the front that says Children’s Hospital. Each letter is a little lopsided and brightly coloured and beside the sign is a clown’s smiling face.
    When you enter the hospital the first thing you notice is that the lady at the desk is wearing an alien mask. ‘I’m Molly. Who do you want to see?’ she asked.
    She didn’t look at all embarrassed that she had a green rubbery face. She looked up Stephanie’s name and ward, lowered her head and pointed her green antennae, stuck to the top of her mask, down the corridor. I’d brought Steph copies of Dad’s pictures of Mars.
    When I walked into Steph’s ward, my stomach was jumping. I saw balloons tied to the end of every bed. There were four children in Steph’s ward. One boy sat in a wheelchair talking; to his dad, I guess. Another boy sat up in bed reading a book. He had a yellow beanie on his head. A girl lay in bed with something attached to her arm. Her mother was sitting next to her in an armchair, leaning back, her mouth slightly open, fast asleep. I figured she’d been there an awfully long time.

    Steph was in the bed near the window. She was propped up with pillows and was scribbling in her notebook.
    Out of the long window, I could see cars queued up at traffic lights. People walking down streets. Mums wheeling babies in prams.
    I said ‘Hi’ and sat beside Steph on her bed. She looked a bit pale, but she’s always been pale. I wondered if the doctors had made a mistake. She didn’t belong in hospital with the other sick kids.
    Then I saw a tube coming from her arm. I began to hiccup.
    Steph told me in a small but firm voice to stop hiccupping and reminded me what I had to do. I poured myself some water from the jug next to Steph’s bed and, feeling very sooky, held my breath, counted to ten then swallowed.
    I asked Steph when she was coming home. She shrugged and said that she had to have some treatment and then she should be okay. She told me to stop looking scared. That now she would getto do all her writing in hospital. That school was sending her homework, and she could take her time doing it. And that she gets to eat ice-cream, to see me and talk to other kids.
    She made it sound like a birthday party, God.
    Her eyes lit up as she told me she was going to read