Breathless ✓

One ✔

The black letters on white paper seemed to become more hazy by the minute, blending into one smudge of grey and causing my eyes to strain painfully. My brain was covered with a veil of fatigue, barely registering the stack of medical reports spread out in front of me. The overly large coffee cup next to me had long since been drained of every last drop, one of my desperate attempts at staying focused, proving useless however as I once again felt my thoughts drift off. It had been a long day, and my mind had wandered more than a few times throughout it, exhaustion looming above me like a dark cloud.

I jumped suddenly as a voice interrupted my, once again, spiraling train of thoughts. "Ms. Forbes, I think it would be best if you left now. The weather is getting quite bad." I glanced at the door where Dr. Smith was leaning against the frame, a stethoscope slung around his neck and a kind smile resting on his features. A quick glance at the illuminated numbers on my watch told me it was close to midnight; that explained this unbearable cramp in my muscles.

I shot him a sheepish smile, "Sorry, Dr. Smith, I must have lost track of time. There was so much to do, and I'm really worried about Mrs. Brown; her condition is only worsening day by day."

"It's okay, no need to apologize, dear," he sent me a reassuring smile. "There is no point in worrying right now; I'm sure she'll improve over the next few days." Straightening up once again, Dr. Smith pinned me with a stern look. "What you need right now is to get home safely and get some sleep. You look like death herself."

I mock glared in his direction but otherwise chose to ignore the comment; I knew he was only looking out for me. Dr. Smith was a rather tall, middle-aged man with short-cropped grey hair and kind honey-brown eyes. Everything about the man screamed warmth and kindness, and I often found myself relying on him for moral support; especially since my parents weren't here, and he, as my uncle, was the only person I could rely on.

I was about to get up when a thought struck me, "Oh, Uncle?"

"Yes?"

"Lucy in room 112 still needs to get her medicine. It's scheduled for midnight."

"I know; it's already taken care of. Go. Home." I laughed as he gave me a gentle push towards the office door, steering us in the direction of the glass double doors of the lobby entrance.

"All right, all right. I'm going. See you tomorrow; I love you!" I waved over my shoulder and smiled when my uncle called for me to drive safe and text him once I got home.

As soon as I opened the doors that led out of the hospital, my entire body was being battered by ferocious winds. Gusts of freezing air tore at my clothes and attacked my hair, creating a whirlpool around my tired body. Pulling my coat closer around my already shivering and wet limbs, I hurried towards the safety of my car.

I loved this kind of weather; from a safe distance, at least.

I threw open the driver's side door and let myself drop into the soft leather of the seat, sighing in relief as the heating came to life with the mere turn of a knob.

A sliver of anxiety crept into my chest at the prospect of having to drive through this weather. Darkness was bad enough, with the addition of heavy rain and thunder, I readied myself for a difficult journey home.

My muscles tensed at the sudden roar of thunder, and I quickly turned the car key, allowing the engine to purr to life and the soft hum of the radio to fill the otherwise silent vehicle. After a few minutes of driving, the almost therapeutic hum of the engine lulled my muscles to relax, finally allowing me to breathe normally and focus on the road ahead.

I drove past the massive buildings that made up the city of Seattle. Both street lamps and houses practically illuminated the entire area, creating a halo effect around the city; Seattle is, after all, the city that never sleeps. Always bustling and moving, a society that works together as if for one common good; though, in reality, no one truly knows what they are doing, what they are working for, living for.