Forgetting the Murder

11: New Job

Have you ever been forced into doing something you don't want to do? That feeling of being unprepared and just generally unhappy. Have you ever been told that it will all 'be worth it in the end'? How is it worth it to go through to many years of being miserable just to have happiness when the chances of you being happy is unlikely because you don't like what you're doing?

I don't understand why people can't just do what they want to do and be who they want to be without being judged. Is that too much to ask?

***

I could hear the alarm beeping loudly, although I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get up so early for. I groaned and reached over to hit the snooze button and fell back asleep. Five minutes later, the beeping started again. By this point, my head was throbbing. I turned off the alarm and got out of bed. I yawned, followed by a large stretch. Finally I remembered why the alarm went off.

First day at work. Today. Oh God.

I got dressed into the uniform which was hung up for me. I looked in the mirror and sighed. This wasn't me. This was too smart and clean to be me. I slipped on my glasses, scraped my hair back into a tight ponytail and walked downstairs for breakfast.

"Well, don't you look smart?" Dad commented as I sat down across the kitchen table from him.

"Hmm," I mumbled.

Truth is, I've never wanted to be a nurse. I hate blood and feel weak at the knees when I see people injured. I panic a lot and do not react well in intense situations. I was forced into this job by my parents. Originally, I wanted to be a photographer or an artist but my Dad said they were useless professions and anyone who had those jobs were just too stupid to get other jobs.

I really don't get along well with my parents and tend to disagree with them a lot.

In school, I studied day in, day out. If I wanted to go out I wouldn't be allowed to. My liberties only stretched to a weekend a month and curfew at ten. Can you understand now why I don't have many friends?

After my many years of studying and training I am finally a qualified nurse, and my work starts today. I filled myself up with banana on toast and orange juice for breakfast and left the house, calling goodbye to my family as I walked out the door.

I parked my car in the hospital car park and sighed. "Here we go, this is it. All those years you've suffered were preparing yourself for this moment." I muttered to myself.

I got out of my car and headed towards the hospital entrance. I took a deep breath before opening the door and walking through.

"Why hello, you must be Abby Winston." A friendly looking receptionist greeted me as I walked into an office.

"Yes," I replied, looking down at my feet.

"Well, you'll be working in A&E with Doctor Carter. Do you know how to get there?"

I looked up from my feet and glanced at the woman I was talking to. "Yes, thank you,"

Of course I knew how to get there. I went to this hospital when I broke my arm, when Emily broke her collarbone and when my auntie had her baby. While I was waiting on the delivery I wandered around the hospital, expecting to find something interesting.

I walked hastily along the hallways, the white wash walls and white polished floors all too familiar to me. My shoes were squeaking quietly against the floor. When I got to the A&E block I entered a room with a sign reading 'Dr. Carter' on the door.

"Hello?" I called out as there was nobody in the room.

"Two minutes!" A masculine voice called back.