Erica

Medical School

I gripped my curly hair as I read my book. The print was so small and the words were so complex that I got a headache after the first page. But I had to keep reading. I had a test the next day.

I closed my medical book. That's enough reading, Erica. Cut yourself some slack.

I put the book away and walked across the room to my tiny bedroom. I changed into my nightgown, washed the makeup from school off my face, and rubbed moisturizer into my face.

I remembered how much I had broken out after I got home from the war. I looked at myself in the mirror, and saw a forest of blackheads on my nose, angry pimples on my chin, and a few whiteheads here and there. I had never seen my face like that. So I took my face and squeezed each blemish until my skin was furious and my nerves begged me to stop.

After 3 washes every day for the next three weeks, my acne started to clear up. I breathed a sigh of relief. But I had spent so much time squeezing and popping that my face was left with a few scars. Now I could buy makeup to cover them.

But soon I got so lazy that I didn't put my makeup on every day. I got strange looks from people along the street, in the grocery store, even from Bubby and Grandpa. I told myself, Okay Erica. You're 19 years old and still living with your grandparents. You need to go to school or get a job.

So I did both. I got a job as a translator for college exchange students. I was fluent in German, French, and a little bit of sign language. I had to study that a bit more.

With that money, and my college money, I got to go to medical school. I don't know why I chose that. Maybe because after seeing people suffer in the war, I wanted to help heal them. Also, I had seen so much blood, it didn't really bother me as much.

So, I'm studying to be a nurse. And let me tell you, it is exhausting! I mean, I like it, I want to keep doing it, but, come on, I NEED my 8 hours of sleep!

I ran my hand through my short hair. Oh, right, I forgot to tell you about that. My hair is so thick and frizzy and curly that putting it in a ponytail was almost as exhausting as being a nurse. So, I took a knife and sliced it up to my chin.

Before, when I looked into the mirror, I saw a scared girl, with facial scars, a shiny forehead, a rain-cloud of frizzy hair and big brown eyes that had gone bloodshot from days of crying.

But now, I see and entirely different person. A young woman with a foundationed face, a puffy bob of black hair, and brown eyes surrounded by square rims stares back at me every time I look. And I'm proud to look like that, I'm proud, proud, proud to be the Erica Mason that I am today.

But being that Erica Mason can lead to unexpected surprises. And I had no idea that the next one I got would be someone I thought I'd never see again.

Hey, everyone! Well, here's Erica's POV, and yes, she's a nurse. And wears makeup. I'm not sure if that's OOC or not, but I thought it'd go good with the blemish business.

I think I may update in the next hour, with Danny's POV. The wonderful Anera527 encouraged me to update soon. See ya later!