Faces

Every patient has a face. Every face is different. Different shape, different colors, different structure, different details. The eyes are all different shapes, sizes, and colors. The noses, the lips, the ears. Every face is distinct and completely different from another.

Abby drifted from patient to patient, from face to face, memorizing every feature about each face and adding a name simultaneously. Hard work, but the super-doctor managed to do it. Each face had a story to tell and she listened and learned. Her work was her way of letting go of the real world and allowing herself to be someone better, someone who could help. Not afraid, not weak. Patient to patient, face to face, every eye color, every curve of the lip, every pierced ear, nose, eye brow, she remembered. Maybe she remembered every face a little too well.

The troubles of the recent days were slowly drifting away as she swam through the waters of the crowded ER. Her mind was no longer on her incident from the night before nor the still throbbing pain of her cheek from Carter's strong fist. She was determined to get through a shift without a recurring memory of her past failures. But some other greater force was determined to ruin her dream and make her miserable.

Adrienne Hanson. Prefers to be called Adi. 13 years old. Complains of dizzyness and nausea. Recently recovered from first round of chemotherapy. Diagnosed with leukemia 6 months ago. Family history of heart conditions and high blood pressure. Blue eyes, blond hair, single pierced ears.

Abby liked this girl. She was the perfect age, right before things get too complicated and right after your parents have realized you're not a baby anymore. Cute name and even cuter face. It made her sad that Adi had cancer and had to go through the sicknesses of chemo before she could even drive. She hoped that Adi would be ok, but tried not to get too emotionally attached to her patients.

Blake Donovan. 3 years old. Recently recovered from car accident in which his right leg had a tib-fib skin-penetrating fracture and a mild concussion. Complains of numbness in his right lower leg into the foot. Mother suspects a complication with his surgery. Father and pet dog "Fishy" were both DOA after the car accident. Red hair, green eyes, pale skin, long eye lashes, button nose.

Peds cases were the worst for Abby to deal with. Seeing the young children suffer was almost the hardest thing to deal with in the world. They have yet to experience the joys of life and already have to go through the pain and misery of reality. Blake was one of those cases where Abby had to lie and say she needed supplies so the mother and boy didn't see the tears swelling up in her eyes. 3 years old and already skin-penetrating leg fracture, surgery, and he had to watch his father and dog die. She needed a break from this heart-break case so she went on with all intentions to come back to him after the red from her cheeks dissolved away.

Melinda Levine. Prefers to be called Mindy. 17 years old. Complains of throat pains such as burning when swallowing and talking and coughing. Sexually active. Boyfriend's name is Derek age 21. Doctor suspected diagnosis: gonorreia. Brown hair, hazel eyes, perfectly straight, sparkling teeth.

17 and already an STD. Abby was 40 and the "ER slut" and she has yet to catch an STD. She didn't really like to imagine things like that. It was ok for her to do it, but it was gross for others to.

Cole Clayton. 44 years old. Complains of a suspected sprained ankle. Says he fell while running last night. Abby looked up into his face to listen to his story as she usually does when not too busy writing. Black hair, brown eyes. A picture flashed into her head.
"Um, how did you say you sprained it?"
"I was running last night. I fell down and sprained it."
"Oh..."
The picture flashed again. It was more recognizable this time. The face. The man. Running. She got away. Because he stopped. He fell. She lived because he tripped. Was this the man who chased her the night before?

Too many questions rushed through Abby's weakening mind and sent her rushing off into the lounge. She flooded to her locker, jolted the lock open, and slammed her hand about as if looking for something. She found it. Her hand came down on the bottle and made a noise like a maraca. She retrieved the hidden treasure and popped a few of it's contents into her mouth then gripped at her face like it would fall off it she didn't hold it in place.

She stumbled out of the lounge and glanced back at her patient. She ran to the elevator and onto the roof looking for somewhere to be alone. There was a small gathering of doctors on break watching the snow on the roof so she fled back down the stairs. She went into the lounge, but found people had decided to get coffee while she was up on the roof. Hopelessly, she made her way out the ambulance bay doors and collapsed into the blankets surrounding the city in exhaustion from her excavation for a vacation spot. Laying in the middle of the road enclosed by snow. There she lay, crying, oblivious of everything going on around her. To herself, she was alone.

Susan came out in time for what she thought would be a usual trauma run, but instead she came out just in time to see a reckless driving rig versus a depressed doctor. Susan's eyes widened at the sight of a high speed rig butchering her best friend's petit body. More people came out to get the incoming trauma, but were unaware of the appalling sight underneath. Doctors and nurses blew by Susan, but she didn't move. She just stood there stiff with eyes never blinking at the red pouring out and destroying the once perfectly white snow.