My set piece is about a young girl, who unfortunately has just little time left. This is her birthday and we see the effects of sickness on her life. This mainly was inspired by not being able to get the things you want. This third person and in the setting of a hospital. 

It was spring, the chilly dew of the morning still linger on fresh cut grass. Kids could be seen grabbing soccer balls and rushing out to the field. She couldn’t help but imagine her life beyond the hospital, a nurse comes in with a little too cheery of a smile. All the nurses walk into the room, her dad, grandparents, and school friends waltz in too. Her mother, sorrowful and downcast, stood at the door. She sighed a long and heavy breath, composed herself taking every ounce of strength she had, put into a smile. “Happy birthday Elise..” Her mother softly says her voice cracking as if she had been rehearsing for hours. The truth is that Elise only has 2 days left to live, this would be her final birthday, the remaining fragments of her legs wigged under the pale, almost see through covers. Her fingertips have turned black, and she looks to have aged, tired, and ready for the cold embrace of death. “10 years old. I am only 10 years old.” She said almost bitterly, “...yes you are deary, you are only..” her mother paused to look at the ceiling, her massacre running gently down her cheek, “only 10 years old.” She smiled once more and held her hand, passionately squeezing it. “Make a wish!”  “I don’t like to play pretend. You all do, but not me. I know something is wrong. I know I’m sick, I know I’m not normal. I just wanted to be happy. I just wanted to be free. I want to run like those kids I see everyday, I want to make friends and I want to be able to walk on my own two legs.” She angrily points to the window.  Elise breathes in, struggling, the room is silent. She couldn’t see the faces of the people nearby, she couldn’t see their tears, she could barely hear their cries. She looked down, her childlike wonder slowly vanishing, her expression soured and one by one they filtered out the room. Her mother stayed, angry, not at Elise but at the fact that the life she wanted her child to live, could never be achieved. She wanted to change the years, she wanted to go back. But she never could. Never could watch her child get a diploma, never watch her daughter walk down the aisle. Never watch her daughter grow up.