Isana lives a pretty hum drum life, working the nine to five grind, paying her bills and student loans.
No family or friends to connect with.
But that hum drum is soon turns upside down as she becomes a witness to a drug deal gone wrong between tw...
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The man takes me down into another floor using the same elevator that Desya and I used, it must be one of the only ways in and out and highly guarded no doubt. The possibility that the only way out is how I almost arrived, deader than a doornail with all of the nails into my coffin.
It is now that I begin to notice now that the people walking around had guns of various sizes slung over their shoulders or somewhere visible on their person. My hands immediately become clammy, and I can feel myself start to shake and my heart rate pumping my blood just a tiny bit faster through my veins.
As we pass some of the men they whisper, looking me up and down, some of them smirking as I meet their eyes. Some of their faces are adorned with bruises, scrapes, black eyes, or a combination of all of those things. Immediately I turn my attention to the floor below me, trying to focus on the patterns flawing the floor.
I'm in a house of killers...
That's the only thought occupying my mind.
I am surrounded by killers.
"Here we are." The man escorting me knocks on the door. "Doc! She's here!"
From the other side of the door, a muffled female voice tells us to enter. The man gives me a slight push telling me to enter the room, I slightly flinch under his touch.
"Don't worry she won't hurt you..." He pushes me through the door. "Maybe." This is added as an afterthought.
The man leaves me in the room, around is a medical set up. There is most of the equipment that you would see in a regular hospital, I think I recognized an X-Ray machine sitting in a corner, there are at least five cots lining the room and a desk near the door. The room is white and sterile like any hospital would be, it made me forget for a moment that I'm not actually in one.
Of course they would need their own 'Doctor'
The sound of clicking approaching me makes me turn around, I'm greeted to the sight of a woman approaching me, grey streaked most of her otherwise dull brown hair, her hair pulled back messily into a ponytail, a cigarette in between her fingers taking a long drag before taking a drag and exhaling the smoke, she peers at me with hard, obsidian eyes, from her glasses perched on the end of her nose.
"Take a seat." She gestures with the cigarette, the smoke swirling in that direction.
I hobble in that direction, I'm now reminded further of my pain in my calf and now of the on-coming throbbing of the pain in my shoulder. I take a seat in the plastic chair, slowly stretching it out. The woman sits down in one of the roller seats like very doctor seems to have and glides over to me, latex gloves going over her hands with a sharp snap, the small particles of powder showing under the beam of her desk light.
