Author's Note: Hey, first "ER" story, here! I actually got this idea from another story I read on the "ER" section called 'Health Hazard'. You all should read it if you like this story.
This one is supernatural and some of the terms are taken from the show "Charmed", so... Just clarifying that I obviously don't own "Charmed" or "ER" or anything in it. Mischa Monaghan, however, is my copyrighted character.
Read and review, please!
Angels Without Wings
Anya Catalyn, August 2004
Another long day, working in the ER, is finally over! I think to myself happily as I throw open the door to my apartment. Throwing my coat on the old leather couch that used to be my sister's, I shuffle to the small bathroom to do my favorite thing of the 3 AM hour: take a shower.
After turning on the water, I glance into the mirror, noting the tired expression in my eyes. Could whitelighters ever be tired? Maybe there were still some human qualities left in me, even after my death.
It's a long, confusing story. Sometimes, I'm not even sure if the entire thing is real... if I've just lost my mind. Explaining the entire thing is pretty easy, and I usually have to tell myself the story many times just to remind myself of what I am. I'm a supernatural being, though I was actually murdered about thirty years ago.
Just like I am now, I was a hard-working doctor who treated each of my patients like I had known them my entire life. I tried to get to know them through their problems and found that laughter was a temporary cure to any sort of pain. Originally, I wanted to be a stand-up comedian or something that was related to making people laugh, but my parents decided that if anything, I should be a doctor. So, we argued over my future and I lost. I immediately went off to medical school and studied for years, eventually becoming an intern at the local hospital. Things just fell into place after that and within no time, I was an official doctor, running around the ER to do anything I possibly could.
The night I died seemed pretty ordinary. I had gone into an empty exam room to get some sleep after ten hours of non-stop work. The room was dark and I was preparing a hospital bed to rest on when I heard the clattering of medical instruments behind me. Just as I fully turned around, I felt something-sharp stab through my chest repeatedly. Probably four or five times, actually. That's when everything just went entirely black.
It seemed as though I had closed my eyes for about a minute before I was able to see again, but what I saw was not the exam room or anything remotely related to a hospital. It was bright and warm, like I was at the entrance gate to Heaven but there wasn't a golden gate around. Instead, a group of people dressed in pale robes was standing in front of me, waiting. To say I was nervous was to say the least but, at the same time, I was somewhat relieved. They spoke to me, asking me if I was ready to move on, or if I wanted to continue to save the lives of innocent people. Of course, I replied with the answer that if I had the chance to help someone, I would do it without question. Each one discussed this answer with the others before the leader spoke again. He told me that I was a benevolent woman and I deserved to stay on Earth as a whitelighter, angels whom had the ability to teleport from place to place and heal the wounds of good people. Whitelighters had a duty to protect the mortals of Earth and because I was already a licensed doctor, I could heal patients, so long as I did it inconspicuously. What could I say? Thanks but no thanks? Besides, the whole thing sounded pretty amazing and it enabled me to have powers that no one could ever dream of.
Since then, I've been a "whitelighter" but never in the same hospital for too long. I couldn't possibly let on that I couldn't die again, that I was an angel, that I never aged... No, that just would not go over well with my co-workers and the general public.
As of now, I'm working in the ER of Cook County Hospital in Chicago. My "boss" told me it was one of the busiest hospitals in the state and that I was needed there more than anything. The entire staff is kind to me but I sometimes get the feeling that there is more going on than medicine practicing. I feel as though there are other sorts of magical beings working in that hospital than just I. It sounds really crazy, but then again I am an angel working in an emergency room.
Still, I can't help feeling that I have regrets about this whole thing. There were so many things I never got to experience like marriage, graduating medical school and a lot of other things. Also, I've always wanted to know the person who stabbed me, to see his or her face, the look in their eyes. I want to know what their reason was for killing me, but I fear I'll never find out.
Before I even realize it, I'm completely clean and content after a half an hour shower. The next thing I can simply do is eat a small dinner, go to bed, wake in eight hours and go right back to work. It's the same routine everyday, except for my days off, of course. Too bad I don't have one of those for a few days.