Fight of Our Lives

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE

    It's day three.

    It's the day of.

    It's getting warm in here.

    I'm going to die in my apartment and no one will ever know.

    Stop it, Val.

    I take a deep breath and take a look at myself in the mirror.

    I have on the paramedic uniform that was sent to me in the mail so I would have it for today.

    My hair is in in a low bun, I read somewhere that that is the most used hairstyle for a paramedic; and I have my cross body purse with all that I will need today.

    I leave my apartment, my stomach churning all kinds of different ways. I suddenly feel like throwing up and passing out at the same time.

    I make my way down the stairs to the lobby and once I'm outside, I call for a Taxi.

    I wave my hand frantically, trying to get a Taxi drivers attention but none of them stop.

    "Shit, I'm going to be late," I say in a desperate sing song voice, my hand waving in the air.

    A woman suddenly taps my shoulder,"Do you need a Taxi?"

    I turn around to face this woman sand sigh in defeat,"Yes,"

    "Let me, dear," she smiles as she brings her fingers to her lips and lets out a loud whistle.

    Instantly, a Taxi screeches over to the side walk for me and I widen my eyes.

    "Thank you so much, ma'am," I gasp in relief as I fast walk over to the Taxi. The woman waves me off as I close the door.

    "Where too?" The Taxi driver asks his usual question.

    "Columbia Hospital, please," I say, a smile playing on my lips.

    This is actually happening. I clench my hands together as the Taxi cab takes only ten minutes to get to the hospital.

    "Seven dollars, miss," the driver says as he parks in front of the hospitals main doors, I stare at them through the window.

    I pass the driver a five dollar bill and two ones and get out of the taxi, facing the hospital.

    My breath is short again and the butterflies in my stomach are flying uncontrollably.

    Walking in, I spot the receptionist and make my way towards her, checking my watch.

    Paramedic interns are supposed to be at the ambulance arrival gate at nine thirty am. It is now nine twenty five.

    I gasp, stopping in my tracks.

    How am I late? My heart beat fastens as I rush to the receptionist.

    "Ma'am, the ambulance arrival gate? Where's that?" I ask, eyes wide open, the palm of my hands spread out on her counter.

    "Only paramedics and doctors are allowed there, miss. Please take a seat in the lobby if-" she says in a monotone voice, not looking at me.