Stolen Innocence: Doctor's Training Part One

Chapter One: The Doctor and the Hospital

Dr. Kieran Sung sat at his desk with a look of frustration across his dark brows. He was in the middle of a confrontation with a frustrated and distraught parent to his new patient. She was causing the comfortable location of his office to become decidedly uncomfortable. He adjusted in the large chair behind his desk, flinching as it made an awful squeaking noise. His nose wrinkled as it made a puff of air from the cushions exuded the smell of leather. The chair was well over three years old, yet it still had that new leather smell. He tolerated it, even enjoyed the scent in small doses, but the creaking sound the stiff material made was why he rarely sat in it. It also had the unfortunate effect of making him look even smaller than he already was, and he seriously considered asking to have the thing replaced with a smaller one made of cloth. A second person could easily sit beside him due to his thin, small stature.

The atmosphere of his office had become heavy with his anxiety as she continued to complain. He glanced over toward the two large windows in the corner of the room which looked out onto the busy streets around him. The city of St. Louis was known for having much of the medical community based on North and South New Ballas Road, and McKellar Hospital was one of the many hospitals and medical facilities along the northernmost portion. His office sat at the back northeast corner of the medium sized private hospital. From here, he could see the main road on the far-left side already busy with lunchtime traffic. Directly outside, he could see the pharmacy across Magna Carta Drive, and the other buildings sitting behind them to the right. Only if he opened the draperies, of course. Right now, as always, they were closed. He kept the dark brown curtains pulled tight against the sunlight because it caused such a glare. It was not terrible today, as it had turned cloudy after the rain they had the day before. Somehow, it made him feel dreary with the current situation.

He pulled his attention from the dull afternoon light filtering through the heavy drapes and returned it to the woman sitting across from him. His deep blue eyes tried to focus on her, but today he was having much more difficulty with his attention than usual.

"I requested a doctor to do the surgery on my daughter, not a student. Why am I sitting across from a child?"

Mrs. Edison, with her hard, hazel eyes, and her ash blonde hair tied up in a tight bun on top of her head, was being completely obtuse about the fact Kieran was trying to save her daughter's life. He noted the wrinkles spreading out around her eyes, colloquially called "crows' feet," and thought perhaps this woman stressed a lot over things she should not. He dragged his short fingers across the dark surface of the desk and wondered why she could not seem to understand his young age was not a concern. He understood the woman's problem with him. He knew his age had initiated this particular confrontation. At twenty-five, Kieran was well aware of the perception others often had. Kieran had never let these situations bother him for too long; once he got past the initial anxiety attack caused by confrontation, he was able to cope with it. At least, he used to be able to cope with them easily.

Lately, Kieran was having a great deal of difficulty moving on from these types of situations. Kieran knew he did not fit well in the world, but he never minded it before. He had always taken care not to care. If someone did not like him for who he was, he would move on. In recent months, the little things separating him from the rest of world were growing considerably, and he was beginning to be bothered by this fact. People like the woman sitting across from him had always been in his life, but he had only recently become more and more irritated by them.

His focus landed on the things on his desk despite the fact he knew this woman was waiting for him to come up with some sort of response. He noted his pen cup was too far to the right, and the cords coming up from the plastic rimmed hole in the wood were disorganized. He gave a slight shake of his head to remove his focus from the disorder on his desk. It was not a large desk, as Kieran did not need a lot of space. It was a plain desk with two smaller drawers and a file drawer on either side of it. His focus shifted to the fact one of the file drawers was askew.