Dare To Die

Chapter One: Modus Operandi.

I softly sigh and close my eyes for a second in an attempt to think of a good way to defeat the existential loneliness. I decide to run my hands through my long blonde hair and laid my head face down on the desk in my room. "Come on, Helénè. You've just turned 18, you're old now. You're supposed to be an adult and think of your own ways to solve things" i softly mumbled to myself. I put my headphones on while letting out another agitated sigh. "Guess i'll just let the music drown out my thoughts again" i briefly paused, like hoping someone would stop me from saying bad things about myself knowing damn well i'm all alone in my shitty overpriced apartment. As the music started to play i started to feel my thoughts calm down a bit to enjoy the pleasant sound of the music.

I had just woken up and put on my last set of clean clothes. A yellow chunkily knitted sweater and a pair of black slim fit skinny jeans were my go to for today. I had just run out of bread and other potential breakfast foods, so i decided it was time to go to the grocery store this afternoon. I put on my black vans and glanced over to the mirror and locked eyes with myself for a second. In that second the only thing going through my mind was "ugly bitch."

It was about time i headed to my work. I packed my acoustic guitar and stuff the empy space in my guitar bag with a water bottle and a cold slice of pizza in a Tupperware box. "Guess since i turned 18 today i at least deserve to treat myself." is the thought that crossed my mind looking at the leftovers of a meal too long ago to still have nutritious value. I check the weather forecast and see the weather is just as terrible as i am. I grab my coat and my scarf and step outside wearing the guitar bag like a rucksack. I unlock my bike and clumsily get on it, hindered by my guitar.

The head of the guitar poking out above my head while biking makes me catch a lot of wind, while the rain wets my hair and stains my face. About half an hour of biking later, i arrive at the hospital and notify the receptionist that i am present as they hand me my name tag and a patient list. I sigh again and the receptionist looks at me and mockingly says "stop sighing, you'll deflate". She softly chuckles as my thoughts get more agitated. "those breasts look they can deflate as well, Barbara" softly escapes my lips just loud enough to form an annoyed expression on the receptionist's face, as she turns back to her computer to continue her low effort job.

Instinctively i put on a smile as i walk into the room of the first patient. I sit down on the chair beside his bed and hold my guitar between my legs as i glance over to him. It's an older man, probably around his 50's with a broken arm. He has already noticed me coming into his room. "Ello There, are you the music gal that plays for the sick 'uns?" I softly nod and let out a fake enthusiastic "yes, i am!" The man introduces himself as Harold and proceeds to tell me about how he broke his arm due to some decision he made. I don't even listen to their stories anymore. I casually replied with a "Owh, i'm so sorry for you. Is there anything i could play on my guitar that would brighten your day?"

The man gave a bright smile and like it took no time to think yelped a request at me; "i would love to hear Stairway to Heaven." Completely bored and done with having to play this song i take my guitar out of the bag and start plucking the first notes and singing along when needed.

After i finished, the patient would thank me and maybe clap and then after getting what they wanted, completely lose interest in me. "I'm tired, i've been here doing this for three years now and everyday is the same. I don't want to do this anymore." Is a standard jingle i would repeat to myself after every patient. Because no matter what, every patient always ended up being the same.

But i also had one positive thought "after so many patients that seemed completely the same, soon there must be one that's actually someone i can show my interest in and get along with. I can feel it, someday soon."

That shimmer of a hopeful thought is also a delusional jingle i repeat to myself everyday to make me feel less miserable.

I thought to myself "is this my Modus Operandi? Just being completely dead and emotionless inside?" I once again sighed and sat down in the cafeteria to chow down on my cold pizza. "I know i have trouble regulating emotions and i know just as well what a psychotic bitch i can be." Lunch break always has been a moment to be alone with my thoughts no matter how much i hated it. It just reminds me that i don't care, about anything. Not even if i died now.

I looked down at my patient list and noticed all the fields for the next patient were empty except room number.

"Hah, looks like something is going to be very different this time."