Medical school was a blast. Everyone was supportive of each other and cheerful. My first day was pretty good.
"Oh hi, what's your name?" A woman said approaching me. "Jhon, Jonathan Linkin." I answered uneasily, Never was one to be very social. "Hey Jhon, I'm lisa, lisa wells, why did you decide to come to med school?" I looked at her as if she had just asked the dumbest question ever. "To help." I answered flatly. She shrugged off my rude tone and smiled, "well that's most of us here." She handed me a name tag from the clipboard she was holding and I had to fill it in. I walked around campus like a preschooler on a field trip. After walking around for a while I had, had enough of the name tag and tore it off.
"To help, ha what a dumb answer." I said under my breath. 'Help? How can I half those who are already dead?' I knew the real reason I joined the medical field.
-5 years later ------
I'm now a famous cardiac surgeon only because it's easy to "accedentially" kill a patient under the scalpel. I had to save a few so I didn't look suspicious. But every "slip" i had was marvelous.
"He's loosing too much blood doctor! We need to seize and stitch him up or he could die!" A nurse would say in my ear. I would take the needle and thread and pretend to drop it into the patient on accedent of course. Disposal was done by the clean up crew and me? ,Well I was happy with these "slips." All of the nurses attending were accomplices to murder and didn't even know it. That's what I get out of this. The rush, the rush of adrinalin brought to me by scraping the edge of being caught.
Now I reside at a sanitarium. Treating patients. And noone can even tell.
