It Was A Whole Thing | Herophine

Mundane

Mundane.

That is my life summed up into one word. Every single day of my life has been nothing but a series of actions in repetition. Wake up, shower, breakfast, school or work, lunch, school or work, dinner, sleep. Then there's the occasional sleepovers or nights out or parties.

But overall, it's just... mundane. Safe, predictable and boring.

I don't have a sport, never had a guy who fancied me, I'm not adventurous, I've never travelled outside Sydney, never ventured on anything that's new to me. But this is not for the lack of trying, though. I'd always find myself daydreaming about exploring, trying new things, finding love which of course all stays inside my head. As much as my mind dictates that I need to widen my universe, to broaden my horizon, I just couldn't make the jump because it scares the shit out of me. I'm a dreamer but I guess that's all I ever will be.

A dreamer but not a doer.

"Jo, you're spacing out again," Patrick half yells at me which snaps me out of yet another daydream. This time, I was relaxing on a hammock by the white sand beach of Perth while the fresh and salty pacific ocean breeze blows my untamed blonde locks around my face.

"And you're being an annoying little shit again Patrick," I huff in annoyance. "You were saying?"

"Your shift's up," he informs me and I lift my wrist, looking at the time.

"Alright. I'm out then." I take out my bag and go around the nurse's station. "See you tomorrow guys!" I call out over my shoulder.

Before stepping out from the Hospital's lobby, I shrug on my jacket and brace myself for the cold Sydney December air. It's two in the morning and the streets are almost empty, lighted by rows of street lights. I start the fifteen-minute walk to my apartment before slipping into an alley which leads to a McDonald's, deciding to buy something to eat. This way cuts my walk by five minutes as well, so win win. You'd think a twenty three year-old woman walking at two in the morning through a dark alley would think twice about what she's doing, but not me. I've been doing this for two years now and frankly speaking, this is the only kind of adventure I give myself.

Just before I could emerge to the other end of the dark alley and out to the bright lights of the street and McDonald's, I hear a series of painful groans by the dumpster. I instantly stop on my tracks, growing nervous as to what lies on the other side of the dumpster. I hear another few groans and I take a step back, my heart pounding so hard against my chest, my hands going clammy as I adjust the straps of my bag on my shoulders.

I should just go back and take the long way to my apartment.

But what if the person behind those groans is injured? I'm a nurse. It is my sworn oath to help those in need of medical attention.

That thought alone cements my decision as I take a deep breath before slowly making my way to the sound.

"Hello? Is anybody there?" I croak, my nerves getting the best of me. The person answers me with a few more groans until I could make out the word "help" in between them. That's all the confirmation I need and I quicken my pace going around the dumpster. I gasp at the sight before me.

A man, one hand clutching the other arm as blood seeps through it.

"Oh my god!" I fall on my knees beside him as I try to peel his hand off his arm to get a look at his injury. The alley is dark and only dimly lit by the lights from the main street, making it difficult for me to make out the face of the man and the state of his injury. "I'm a nurse. Please, I can help if you would just let me see your wound," I tell him as calmly as I can muster though deep down, I am frantically wracking my brain to make sense of what is happening right now. I cannot act all flustered; that would only set off panic from the patient.