Doctor's Touch

Chapter 3

Mankind is born into a family that employs all forms of energy to teach a child how to talk. The kid stumbles at first, but eventually understands the art of language. He grasps the difference between sound units falling into deafness and words to communicate feelings and emotions.

Words might just be blots of ink on a page or letters lost in the air, yet they hold a lot of power. With words, silent glances are broken and a relationship is born. Love blossoms, and the cage enclosing any heart snaps as if it was created of slim water threads rather than sharp cutting iron. With words, battles of self-esteem are lost and the fire of self-hatred destroy all the remaining houses. And just like that, trust can just vanish and commitments die out.

All of this chaos happens in a matter of seconds.

So, when my friends and I find an old man sprawled on the ground, the simple words "Help me", shouted by a misty-eyed woman, are enough to create a storm in my heart. I put my stoic face on and decide to act quickly with the little knowledge I have. In parallel, the girls call 112,* trusting me to make the right assessment.

The ground slowly fades away as my fingers hesitate to trace the man's arms. Cold. They are very cold. It's like they've transformed into dead leaves, waiting to fall off his body upon the smallest wind. At this single touch, bitter reflections find their way into my mind in the form of flashbacks, kicking my sanity away.

Flashbacks, the deadliest form of Satan on Earth. They might be fading sounds carelessly pronounced by a mouth, but they can freeze time. They are also desperate, so desperate to gather a city just to be watched; or encouraging to the point of bringing the whole city down to hell.

Shouts and shrieks of people passing by echo in my ears and end my episode. Taking a deep breath, I let my fingers roam around the old man's artery in search of a pulse, only to find nothing. Then, I open the flashlight application from my phone to inspect each of his pupil's reaction to light; they are becoming constricted. You should be performing CPR, analyzes my brain. But, instead of applying pressure on his chest, I stand still.

Well, don't blame me. I have never been in a situation like this- the only CPR I have ever performed is on a doll during my first aid class. What if I do it in the wrong way or at the wrong places? What if the massage doesn't work at all and his chest needs to be opened? Neither experience nor appropriate equipment is available at the moment.  

In an instant, a strong and firm person pushes my body out of the way, kneeling next to the patient.

Time is not on our side and every second can be helpful in sparing his life. So, I mutter hastily: "I checked his vitals and it looks like he's having a heart attack." Seeing my panicked state, the mysterious guy tells me to give him more space. Afterward, he does the same technique I should have done earlier, without hesitation.

Still on my knees, I notice the way my fingers are still holding the old man's icy hands. Two minutes have passed when a gasp is loudly heard across the room. He's awake. Still doubting his revival, I shakenly check his pulse and find it very slow. Fortunately, the ambulance arrives at the perfect timing and puts him on an oxygen machine. The paramedics thank us for our intervention and take him directly to the hospital. Ashamed of my actions, my eyes don't meet theirs and don't even look at the savior's face.

I huff in exasperation before running towards my room. Locking myself in the bathroom and taking deep breathes seems to be the perfect solution. Some side of my brain urges me of feeling proud that I was here doing the routine checkups. However, the other biggest part is blaming my lack of devotion, my lack of courage. If the mysterious man hadn't been there, the patient could have easily died. Because of me.

I am going to be a doctor for God's sake, why a simple CPR technique was difficult to perform?!!! "You're worthless, just like your mother. You can't excel in anything," the inner voice of my father vibrates in my head. I cover my ears, trying to keep him at bay, to get his destructive words out of my system.

"Sophie, open the door. We know you're in here".

The loud knocking startles my caustic state, obliging my neurons to become aware of my surroundings. Turning the knob carefully, daggers hit my body as soon as the familiar faces appear.                                                      

"I know what you must be thinking in that stubborn perfectionist head of yours. But you need to understand that you cannot control everything. You're not a magician nor a doctor- yet", fires Evelyn while looking at me as if I might break in any second. Alice nods in approval, asking me to stop replaying the episode and move on.

My heart listens carefully to their kind words, interested in finding a way out. They're right though; critical events shouldn't bring me down. No matter how bad they are, it's just one of life's obstacles. Next time, I'll hopefully keep the memories out and work without intervention. 

Just like that, my mind stops its unproductive buzz. My tensed shoulders also relax, so I quickly drift the subject.

"When are we going to unpack? Spain is waiting for us!"

My friends sigh at my oblivious distraction and stand in front of their luggage, next to the bed.

After unpacking everything, we wait for Alice to finish her conversation with her boyfriend Ralph before going on our journey. Yes, you heard me right, Alice has a boyfriend. In fact, in contrast to Evelyn and me, she believes in happily ever afters. The couple's story is very unoriginal; the shiest girl meets the outspoken quarterback of the football team. However, we don't really like Ralph because something seems off about him, yet we know our friend is capable of handling him.

Their lovely conversation drags on and on until we've had enough. We snatch her phone and hang up the call. Alice is furious at us and angrily murmurs "okay fine. Let's go eat".

From the day Eve's mom booked us the flight, we knew that we could go with an assigned guide or explore the city at our own pace. Strangely enough, we agreed that the first three days would solemnly be our own responsibility whereas the remaining two would be the guide's.

We head towards a well-known restaurant google recommended prior to our arrival. Scanning the menus,  our gourmand spirits order specialties of pasta as well as margarita pizzas. We don't forget to take multiple pictures of the food and of our faces while tasting these amazing foreign dishes. 

The first bite takes us to heaven and soon enough the whole plates disappear. It's a shame that the whole tasting took less than ten minutes. 

"Let's go to the park. My stomach is full; it needs some exercise before it bursts", suggests Alice once we've payed. 

The tightening of our jeans agree with her words, so we approach a small nearby park and try to imitate local Spanish people. Evelyn doesn't find it funny at first, but eventually relaxes and starts laughing with us.

Many giggles and memories later, my friends and I head back to the hotel to rest, There, the receptionist greets all the visitors to invite us to a flamenco party happening tonight.

"Of course we'll go," our voices rise in unison.

We laugh at our enthusiasm and quickly go upstairs. 

"You know, I have never seen you taking care of your style before departing an event. This evening, you're under our responsibility," announces Alice as if she's talking about the weather.

I don't have any energy left to argue with her stubbornness, and nod my head hesitantly. 

Mistaking my approval for enthusiasm,  the girls make me wear a tight red dress and oblige me to put makeup on. Finally, they use a hair curler to change the nature of my hair and add up some volume. Looking at myself, I am really amazed at how I turned out to be.

Twenty minutes later, we head towards the flamenco room. However, I have an intuition that this night is going to be special.

A/N: *112 is Spain's emergency number. It's the equivalent of 911 in the U.S.
Thank you _Chara123 for pointing it out!