The Clinic Novels & Stories

I stared blankly as the gate widened on Nicholas’ push. I would have said it wasn’t the gate since James didn’t alight from the car to enable our entry. But when it occurred to me it is dark and necessary to provide security measures for patients in areas such as this by keeping the gate shut, I resounded the clarity that it is the same clinic. “Come, this way,” Nicholas said when we dismounted from the bike, before a building and a noiseless surrounding. Memories of what I came to do here resurrected. I looked at Nicholas, wondering if he was there at that time. If we had crossed paths before D’caprias – or using the same clinic was a coincidence.

Then they went to the clinic, which was at the back of the school. The clinic was a storey building behind the school complex. It was built in the model of a small hospital. The founders of Regis High School did not want their clinic to be one or two rooms like most schools had. Because their students came from very influential homes, they needed their school to be the best in all aspects. The founders had the clinic well equipped and hired very good doctors and nurses to work there. As Vanessa and Colton approached the completely white building with transparent double doors, Colton began to sweat

“I need more than words. Let’s go to the clinic again, confirm it properly.” He nodded, a quiet agreement, and we walked together, the city’s pulse surrounding us. The South London Women’s Clinic rose before us, its white walls stark against the sky, the antiseptic scent hitting me as we entered. The hum of machines and the click of a receptionist’s keyboard filled the air. Dr. Patel welcomed us, her kind smile a contrast to the sterile room. She guided us to an examination area, the crinkly paper on the table rustling as I sat. A bright baby poster on the wall caught my eye.

Ezra leaned down for a quick kiss on the forehead and then I watched him drive away to his office with a smile on my face. Stepping into the familiar clinic, a sense of comfort washed over me. The crisp scent of antiseptic filled the air, intermingled with the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the break room. The clinic, with its soft pastel walls and warm lighting, exuded a calming atmosphere, designed to put patients at ease during their visits. The sound of gentle instrumental music played softly in the background, creating a soothing ambiance.

He would go in because it was safer to be compliant than to be the reason his father’s temper snapped. Soon the clinic appeared, it was a modest brick building with a neat sign and a small garden pruned into acceptability. Xavier turned off the engine and gave Jaxon a quick, assessing look, like a final check before moving on. Jaxon nodded slightly and stepped out without a word The clinic smelled faintly of citrus and children’s paste, a place designed to be inconspicuous and quiet. Xavier walked him to the reception desk, made the exchange he always made: the small arrangement of goodbyes and the promise to return.

“I’ve danced through worse.” "Aye,” he murmured, his eyes darkening. “But ye didn’t have us back then.” Well shit. That got me quiet real fast. The clinic was tucked away in the hills, marble floors, ambient lighting, not a soul in sight besides a kind faced woman in a white coat who clearly didn’t ask questions. She examined me quickly, confirming it wasn’t broken, wrapped me up with some healing balm and bandages, then stepped out with a knowing smirk.

Elena Carter walked into the clinic, her heart thudding in her chest, a mixture of nerves and determination twisting inside her. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a clinical glow on the pristine white walls, reflecting off the polished floors. The faint smell of antiseptic hung in the air, mingling with a quiet hum of machines and muffled footsteps from the nurses moving through the halls. It all felt unreal, sterile, and yet unbearably intimate, as if the walls themselves were aware of the life-changing decision she was about to make.

Two days later. I walked in a quiet small town. A place with a cold breeze and lots of trees along its main streets. The residents seemed quite friendly. Following the address written on the cover letter, I arrived at a clinic that looked more like a two-story private house. Several patients were seen queuing inside. Long story short, I met the clinic owner named Claire, her full name being Claire de Violeta. She welcomed me warmly into her office, which smelled of medications, of course, after I explained the purpose and goal of my visit.

Claire frowned when she arrived at the address that the woman sent to her. It was a shabby building in the outskirts of town and when she got close, she was surprised to find that it was a clinic. ‘I never knew we have such types of clinics in the city. What is the mayor doing?’ Claire asked in her mind as she entered the place. The building reeked of urine due to the unsanitary conditions of the place and Claire fought the urge to block her nose.

ODETTE We made it to the clinic, thanks to Amber’s mumbling directions, and don’t get me wrong, I loved the girl, but it was such a relief to get her off me. There’s only so much weight a spineless and starving human like me could handle. The clinic was in a small section of the packhouse, which was standard and easy to access and find. The only thing a bit alarming about it was the fact that this little clinic was a bit too furnished and equipped to be a simple emergency alternative to a hospital.