Written story about a sick girl

Athela (I don't know where the name came from okay, you can change it later) gazed outside of her small hospital window at the world below. Once upon a time she had been a part of that world, she had played on the playground with the other kids, she had eaten whatever she wanted, and she hadn't been stuck in a hospital with a needle sticking into her arm. But that was in the past, only a blissful memory of that time remained. Athela had been admitted into the hospital after the accident, first, it was only because they wanted to see if anything was wrong, but then it was because they needed to do more test, and before she knew it, Athela was a permanent resident of Brookside Hospital until further notice. That marked the last day she had seen her parents in six years, she had counted it carefully, and since she was four when they left her at Brookside, that would mean that she was ten. Of course, Brookside Hospital was definitely not brookside. Its location in the middle of the city made it even more depressing, Athela could watch the world go by, and would never be able to actually enter it, the most she could do was watch from the window.

It was during her routine, right before lunch, that she noticed another kid. Now, kids were not out of the ordinary, they passed the window multiple times a day, but this was strange because the boy had also noticed her, which was very extraordinary. He waved from the pavement, smiling up at her. Out of her human instinct, Athela waved back. then something even more extraordinary happened, the boy, with what looked like his mother in tow, marched right into the front door of Brookside Hospital.

A few moments later, a nurse came, "there's someone here to see you today," and the boy came tromping in, with his mother trudging behind him. The first thing that she noticed about the boy's mother, was that she was also her mother. Or looked quite similar. Quite extraordinary.  

Explanation:

Erm, I don't know where this was supposed to go, or where it'll go from here, but here you go, do what you want with it

what is this from, i cant tell what language he uses without the piece of literature