The elevator pinged, jolting her back to reality, and she stepped out into the hospital lobby. She walked through the reception area and into the Dean of Medicine’s office. She sighs and clears her throat.
Here goes nothing. Natasha knocked.
“Come in,” Dr. Fell said. He was a middle-aged man with piercing eyes and a diplomatic demeanor.
He smiled as soon as he saw her face, but his eyes stayed deadpanned.
“Please come in, Dr. Kriska. I’ve been waiting for you,” the smile slipped as quickly as the IV dripped. She cringed on the inside. Well, you know what was coming. She told herself this while pressing her lips together and trying not to close her eyes. “Like your patients,” He widened his eyes and curled his mouth in a sneer, suppressing his irritation.
“Dr. Fell, Sir…” She tried to say something, but nothing could justify her incompetence.
“You were not only late four times in the last two weeks, but you were also unable to come through for emergencies!”
“I know this my fault; this….” She tiredly sighed. “This will not happen again,” she had nothing further to say or explain.
What will she say even if she wants to? There’s no way to hide the fact that her nerves occasionally collapse. She drifts out without notice and is unaware of it. Even when awake, she searches for strange shadows that she cannot recall seeing in her dreams but desperately wants to. However, she has no medical problems. She has undergone extensive testing.
He sat back in his chair and then leaned against the table, staring her down.
“This is my final warning; one slip, and I will fire you.”
“Yes, sir,” In humiliation, she nodded and turned, heat rising to her neck.
“Or you can kiss your license goodbye,”
She turns around, her mouth open, but no sound comes out. She can’t believe it; she will lose her eight years of study and hard work.
“He said that,” Jody murmured, shocked, looking at Natasha.
“He seemed quite serious,” Natasha added as she shoved the yogurt into her mouth.
“Are you certain?” Jody asked, her gaze narrowed at the yogurt. “This is not a healthy diet; this is all you’ve eaten.”
They sat in the break room, which smelled strongly of coffee and clinical supplies. Natasha had finally finished her breakfast.
Natasha licked the spoon, saying, “It helps me feel better.”
“All right, that’s it! Set it aside,” she snatched it away from Natasha.
“At the very least, have a sandwich,” Jody said, handing her some from her plate.
Natasha glanced at it and considered eating it, but Dr. Fell’s words rang in her head, making her stomach churn. It made her unable to eat anything.
“I don’t feel like it,” she says as she swallows.
“Here’s what I think you should get….”
“Checked,” Natasha said as she tossed the empty packet into the garbage.
“I’ve already done that, and I’m not clinically depressed,” she explained.
“Or you should get laid,” Jody cocked her brow.
Natasha stood up, rolling her eyes.
“I am not lonely,” she protested, but she felt a hollowness in her chest.
“You know you need a break, and he is a jerk, don’t mind him; you are a good doctor, and you worked 36 hours in the ER last week without a break, no sleep at all, and it has messed up your sleeping cycle.”
She sighed, nodded, and smiled, hoping that Jody knew she appreciated her efforts in cheering her up. Jody is a good friend, but Dr. Fell is correct; what if one day she spaces out and endangers a patient’s life? Natasha cannot be this way. They parted ways, and she proceeded to her charts in exam room number three.
Natasha’s heart seized whenever she suspected she was losing it. Occasionally, when she is alone. She senses the world passing by her. Time becomes irrelevant, and her consciousness becomes engulfed in a cloud. She doesn’t want to run away from it. She wants to get lost in it but knows she shouldn’t.
‘I wish one day I would wake up and don’t feel disoriented. What is the purpose of all this if I kept feeling I would not reach anything,’
It left much to be desired, like a coin lacking a second side.
“Doctor, Mrs. Myers has arrived for her appointment,” she says.
She jerked her head up and nodded.
“Sent her in,”
Her fifth appointment was running late, so she took a lunch break. The fourth level was a cancer ward. She went there to see if Jody was available for a bite. Natasha’s stomach churned with unease; something didn’t feel right today. She just doesn’t know what it is. She steps out of the elevator and observes the corridor in front of her. With its clinical odor of floor cleanser and other sanitary chemicals, this floor always irritates her the most. She could sense the sorrow in the air seeing the faces where the light had gone.
A woman slept on the waiting room chairs, maybe praying her loved one would survive another day. Before they can celebrate a life saved, there is another person that dies.
Death is both terrifying and fascinating.
There is a pull to it she can’t define. She and death had a row once.
It was her birthday; she awoke to the sight of her parents’ cheerful faces wishing her with a stack of gifts surrounding her, but suddenly all hell broke loose. It started with a cough, but she quickly threw up blood. Her head felt like it might split in half from the agony. She recalls looking at her parents’ anxious expressions and dreading that she would never see them again before falling unconscious.
That was the first time she dreamed of that meadow. It was lovely as it is now. The beautiful spark in the air, the sound of a waterfall, the sensation of tranquility, it felt all the same. He approached her with his unusual eyes, dressed entirely in black, the cloak gliding behind him, the hood concealing his head, and black material covering half of his face so that only his strange red-blue eyes were visible. She was tall, coming to his shoulder. It was weird she was a fully grown woman. Being in his presence did not frighten her. He placed both hands on her shoulders and whispered coldly, “It’s time to go.”
His odd eyes met her brown eyes.
She has seen those eyes before; she knows him. How and why she can not say.
“Where?” She asked him, blinking quickly, a sinking feeling in her stomach causing her to take a step back. She always goes too soon. She never gets to grow up.
“You must accompany me,” he continued without answering her.
“No!”
“No!”
“Natasha, I have told you, it made no difference; you have lived many lives,”
“Just this once; this is the last one anyway,” she insisted.
When he looks into her eyes, something changes in him; the red flacks in his eyes soften. He looked as surprised as she did, and then a fire circle encircled them. Everything went dark and silent. “pl-please! Please don’t take me; I want to go back,” She stammered her words.
“You have to wake up,” he said quietly. Natasha looked at him, puzzled, his eyes shouting, “Wake up!”
Natasha’s woke up and found herself in the hospital room, much to her parent’s relief. Doctors will never know what happened. It vanished as quickly as it appeared. She has become fascinated with determining what happened to her and why she is still alive, but that strange dream makes no sense.
Is he real? She sees him every time she sleeps but has no recollection of her dreams other than the circle of fire and the lingering aroma of apricot and him. His embrace, his eyes, and he’s gone. He is no longer as icy and harsh; something has changed in him over the years.
She wanted to cure death, but more importantly, she longed to know it. She couldn’t think of anything else, yet it was impossible. She was there for the wrong reason, not because a doctor cannot save every life. She didn’t want to avoid death, and her obsession had the potential to ruin her until…until she witnessed a life born.
It’s incredible to witness a child take his first breath outside his mother’s womb. A mother went to the underworld’s gates to give birth to this new being, and it drew her out of that twisted infatuation. It provided her with a fresh viewpoint. She wanted to be a part of it, a part of those beautiful, miraculous moments. It didn’t seem to stop her attraction to the darkness.