3.

Hannah

Most people hate hospitals because they usually represent sickness and death. Some hate hospitals because of the strong smell of antiseptics, but strangely enough, that’s one reason I love them; the smell of antiseptics, not sickness and death.

Growing up with a nurse as a foster mother meant spending most of my teenage days in a hospital, being loved and cared for by nurses, doctors, cleaners, and other employees. I fell in love with the work that doctors and nurses do in the hospital so much that when I was old enough to decide, I knew I was going to work in a hospital, as a nurse. I had wanted to become a nurse just like my mother.

I walk through the clean, white halls of St. Marie Memorial Hospital, with a little swagger in my step and a little chip on my shoulder at securing a job at one of the most sought-after hospitals in the city, extremely thankful that I didn’t fall for Connor's lies and reject the job, simply because he couldn’t grasp the concept of me being better than him at anything, or being more successful than him.

Shaking my head, I stop my train of thought. I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t entertain any thoughts of him, no matter how small, and though I just did, he’d been the least of my worries throughout the weekend, because my mind had refused to move on from Friday night, and that creepy Green-eyed man.

It was a wild night where I realized I could’ve died in his hands, with my body parts sold and nothing about me findable on the surface of the earth anymore, and no one would know how or when it happened. I just know Connor would love to wake up to such news about me.

But Mr Green-eyes and that night in general were all I could think about for hours without end, replaying every moment since the second I walked up to him; his member in my mouth and the threats in my head like a broken record. I had cried myself to sleep that night and strengthened my resolve to never go out leisurely like that again, but while doing that, I remembered those deep green eyes, how they looked at me when I was sucking him, how they raked up and down my body with the warning to not mess with their owner. Even now, the mere thought of them—

"Snap out of it, Hannah." I slap my face with both hands, shaking my head as I adjust the handles of my brown tote bag—which contains all my necessities like my change of clothes, a charger, a little makeup, and some snacks I made the night before— across my shoulder

I’d taken up the opportunity to move to the city because I wanted a chance to start over and excel at the one thing I know how to do best, without the weight of someone else on me, whispering less-than-good things about me, and I made up my mind to let absolutely nothing ruin the experience for me; not even dark and dangerous-looking men with beautiful green eyes and a huge dick.

What happened that night happened, and though I can be paranoid and delusional—reading meaning into nothing and overthinking my existence— nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the past three days, which I translate to: The green-eyed man most definitely found himself some other woman to obsess over, and he no longer remembers what I look like anymore.

Hopefully that is the case, because to see myself in such a situation like that for a second time? That would be the death of me.

“Hey Hannah, I didn’t want to ask for fear of creeping you out, but if I don’t, Hailey is going to kill me. So, do you want to come with us?”

I stare at Phil, the new doctor friend I just made, then at the red-haired beauty behind him, who’s walking towards us as though she didn’t put him up to it. I’d just finished working through my first shift, which was just as hectic as I expected it’d be, but enjoyable nonetheless, when Phil walked up to me.

“You said your apartment is on road twelve, right? We’ll drop you off on our way,” he adds; however, while it’s a tempting offer, I’m not one to be overly familiar with work colleagues, especially on the first day.

“Hailey and I always drive together to save gas since we live five minutes away from each other. It's not always ideal since we don’t always get the same shifts, but when we do, we ride together. Join the fun, and don’t say no, cause lord knows I’m tired of riding with Darth Vader,” he says, and a chuckle emerges from me right as Hailey approaches us.

Without saying a word, she stretches her arm and smacks Phil at the back of his head. Another chuckle threatens to emerge, but I swallow it down.

“Ow! For fucks sake, Hailey! This is workplace abuse!”

“Then stop running your mouth about me!”

“You’d know I wasn’t if you weren’t so addicted to violence. I was inviting Dr. Sinclair to come with us like you asked me to,” Phil cries out, rubbing the affected area with his palm.

Hailey turns to me with a smile, her green orbs threatening to pull me into her universe.

“So? Are you coming?” She asks, and I smile at both of them.

“Maybe tomorrow? I have plans for tonight,” I say, the smile still on my face.

“Really? Already? Who is he? or she?” Hailey asks, and my eyes pop out. I instantly wave both hands in front of me.

“No, not that kind of plan,” I scoff, “I just wanted to test out my walking route back home. It’s what I do when I move to new places,” I tell them, which is true, and watch as their formerly excited faces turn to one of realization and understanding.

“Wait, that’s cute. But I must warn you. Don’t stay out too long, it’s rather…troublesome the darker it grows.”

I don’t know why Hailey’s warning brought a flash of Mr. Green-eyes to my mind, but a shiver runs through me when it does.

“Is it that serious?” I ask, even though I feel like I shouldn’t.

Both Hailey and Phil stare at me as though I’ve just grown another head.

“Well, I for one think you won’t be unfortunate enough to find the answer to that question. Look, just be careful out there, that’s all. Goodnight, newbie,” Phil says, and together, he and Hailey walk out of the hospital with Hailey waving at me as they do.

“That’s definitely something,” I say to myself while I walk back to the locker rooms to get changed and leave.

I’m walking around with G****e Maps open on my phone, taking in the views: the open flower shop with only a few bouquets left, on the right, the burger truck across the street, the cafe with its dim lights blinking, and people walking, cycling, or driving around. Nothing feels out of the ordinary, and it fuels me to keep walking, pushing Hailey’s warning to the back of my mind.

The air is crisp but soft to the skin, and it feels like I would have a nice walk until I look up at the sky. For a moment, I pause. It looks ominous; the lone moon hanging there with not much brightness to it, or even stars around it, as if announcing her death.

I shake my head, telling myself it’s just one of those dark nights. Nothing is going to happen. I’m just in my head. But even as I’m saying it, I don’t believe it.

Still, I can’t back down because I have to get home, which is thankfully a ten-minute walk from where I’m currently standing.

I adjust my tote bag on my shoulder and reach inside, searching around until I’m sure I’m holding my pepper spray, then I smile and square my shoulders, knowing that nothing can come around me with this bad boy in my hand. I am full of courage when I cut into a lonely corner, my senses heightened as I walk, my eyes darting from the road before me to my phone’s screen.

I haven’t walked up to forty steps when I hear the piercing sound of a gun shot reverberate loudly. I freeze, eyes wide but not having the courage to look around fully, only left to right. The sound startles me so much that I can’t tell where it emerged from, just the echo of it in both my ears and my mind.

“What the hell did I put myself into?” I cry to myself, biting my lips as my grip around my pepper spray and phone tighten simultaneously. I can feel my confidence severely waning, knowing a bullet could get to me before I could have the liberty of fully taking out the pepper spray from my bag to use it.

“Please let me get home safely tonight,” I say to the heavens above, contemplating if I should continue the walk or risk a return to the hospital and find a better ride home, regretting ever saying no to Phil and Hailey.

Nothing tops my safety, but I also realize I’m closer to my apartment than I am to the hospital, and for all I know, the gunshot could’ve come from behind me. With that in mind, I make the bold decision to keep walking forward instead of going back, but I quickly realize I’ve made the wrong decision for the second time today when I hear fast and heavy footsteps running towards me before I even see the silhouette of the person approaching. I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman; hell, I don’t even want to tell, I just know I shouldn’t be here.

“Oh hell no!” I groan as I turn around, prepared to speed down the corner and return to the hospital, but before I can take one step forward, a man’s strained cry halts me.

“Help me!” he cries, pain and torture evident in his voice. I turn back around to him, only to watch him collapse to the ground, shaking. If that was a plot to get to me, it’s a smart one because my doctor instincts overtake my need to flee, and in no time, I’m running towards him full of concern instead of away from him.

“Hello, sir, can you hear me?” I ask him and get a groan in response. I don’t mind the groan; if anything, I like that he responded the only way he can, but like they say about curiosity, I want to know the cause of his nonverbal response. So I turn on my phone’s flashlight on him and gasp in horror at the sight before me. The man is soaked in his blood from the lower left of him. He seems to be the one who was shot earlier, if the hole in his plaid shirt is anything to go by. I gulp, wasting no time in dialing the emergency number for an ambulance, as I lean towards him, taking off my jacket to use it to apply pressure on the injury while explaining the details of what just happened and where we are to the call receiver, after which I hang up when I’m told an ambulance is making its way to us.

I press down on the injury, increasing the pressure on it so nothing else slips out, all the while wondering how I got myself into this situation, fearing for the man’s life if the shooter decides to come this way, and fearing for my life cause I’ll accompany him to the other side if the shooter does come.

Which I won’t find funny cause I just got here!

“Sir, can you tell me your name?” I ask the man to keep his brain functioning, but he doesn’t respond. I reach forward to his neck; his pulse feels faint, and I panic.

“An ambulance is on its way, okay? Don’t die on me. I just got here!” I cry out in my panic, and his eyes flutter, but he manages to keep them open just long enough to tell me what feels like his last words.

“Don’t let me die,” he barely mutters just as an ambulance’s siren blares from a distance.

“I’m not going to let you die,” I say even as I watch his eyes roll to the back of his head.