Chapter 49: You

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Standing in her presence, I immediately get what the fuss is all about, much to my dismay

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Standing in her presence, I immediately get what the fuss is all about, much to my dismay.

I remember the first time I scrubbed in with the legendary Dr. Ava King.

She was still up and coming at the time, working at a regional hospital in London. Some poor guy came in after a motorcycle accident. He had broken his leg in multiple places, fracture-dislocated his shoulder and had a bad head trauma. In swooped Doctor Ava King. The attending doctor was ready to saw the sodden leg off, but Ava insisted she could save it.

"He'll never walk again," the attending surgeon said, and Ava just shushed him and rolled her eyes while we all stood in awe, watching her work her magic.

After grueling rehab, the guy walked out and is probably back on his motorcycle; that prick of a doctor had to eat his words.

It's ironic that she didn't meet Gabriel then; he was called in a few days later to perform a craniotomy on the same bloke. He was already working at the best brain and spinal hospital in London, and earning a name for himself.

I later transferred there but word of my... extracurricular activities soon got out. I never stopped dancing, and I soon progressed to a high-end, in demand escort. It was also just too much of a pretense to uphold, especially after I had to vouch for Gabriel when he got too heavy handed with some dull intern.

Nursing was always the goal... seemed respectable. But it also meant incurring student debt. And I didn't want to linger in debt for too long, so I never stopped doing what I loved.

Yes, I love it. I stumbled upon it as a last resort, to somehow keep me off the streets, the same place where my horrible, drugged up parents dumped me. I was a product of the welfare system and as punishment, sent to live at a nunnery. For delinquents such as myself.

You see, I did what I had to do to survive, begging, stealing... and I ended up in a juvenile of sorts. Actually, juvie would have been better than those wretched nuns.

They were vile creatures, masked under the veil of doing God's work. But they beat me, denied me of food, treated me like vermin... all because I was different. Sexual deviant was the phrase most commonly used.

Sex was my only escape. I didn't want to end up a useless druggie like my rotten parents, so I steered clear of alcohol and drugs. Sex gave me the high, the euphoria, the glimmer of light in this ever impeding dark hole called life I was forced into.

I ran away from the nunnery when I was sixteen; I wasn't about to wait until I was clocked out of the system and forced to become a nun or worse, wait for them to poison me.

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