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WARNING: Blood and depiction of fatally wounded patients
My heavy eyes hesitantly opened due to the pulsating alarm now flooding my ears, abruptly ripping me from a dreamless sleep. In a childish act of defiance, I secured my pillow over my head hoping my mundane routine, preventing me from remaining within the heavy slumber, would simply cease to exist. However, as much as I didn't want to, I began to jostle my sore bones awake and glanced over at the alarm clock whose crimson digits read, 2:30 am.
"Gotta love the mid shifts." I groggily croaked from my raw throat while swallowing hard on the words feeling like sandpaper. Swinging my legs over my bedside, I descended onto the cold wooden floors in one swift motion; hastily speeding across my bedroom trying to rid my toes of the chilling sensation. Rummaging through my drawers, I internally screamed as the sight of familiar blue scrubs caught my attentive eye.
I found it humorous that at one point I became giddy and bubbly at the sight of these very scrubs, but when it's nearly 3am it begins to lose its appeal. Continuing towards the bathroom, I hesitantly switched the lights on and routinely threw my hair into double french braids, briefly wincing at the hair becoming tangled in the elastic band securing them. Ever since I'd become a surgical resident, getting ready in a limited amount time became second nature, I viewed exhausting precious energy into such futile details to be absolutely absurd. Unfortunately, it didn't change the fact of that I always looking half dead during every shift.
Jostling the apartment door open I braced the crisp fresh air which sent an involuntary shiver rattling down my body from head to toe; internally cursing myself for not grabbing the sweatshirt hanging by the door while I roughly slammed the heel of my foot against the ground beneath.
Shifting the gears into park, I dropped my head back in frustration while pinching my eyes shut, allowing a raspy groan to spill from lips. Obeying the ghostly whisper scolding my childish actions, I figuratively hiked up, as my mom used to refer to them as, big girl panties and mentally prepared myself for another strenuous day,
"Back so soon?" The kind lady at the front desk asked as I drudged through the main doors, almost pained to see the dreary atmosphere as the overwhelming scent of disinfectant momentarily clouded my thoughts.
"Working a double today." I carped finding even the simplest question uncharacteristically unnerving.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Frankenstein herself." A surgeon, by the name of Eric, sarcastically announced perkily advancing towards me.
"As I live and breath, they still letting you work here?" I quipped in return as he tried to go in for a hug, but I curtly redirected him away from such close proximity.
"Ouch." He remarked pretending as if one of my many insults were starting to get under his skin while lifting his hands in surrender at my notion.
