Kitty tugged her sleeve down as she held the patient chart close to her chest, weaving through the crowded emergency bay. The fluorescent lights flickered above her head while alarms blared at the nurses’ desk. Her shoes squeaked across the linoleum as she struggled to keep her nerves in check and her shoulders small, hoping the attending wouldn’t notice her trembling hands. A sharp voice called her name. She turned, heart hammering, and found Dr. Torres watching her with an unreadable look. The scent of antiseptics and rain drifted through the open doors as Kitty tried to steady her breathing, her own gentle peach scent curling faintly in the air. She brushed a lock of curly hair from her face, nodded, and stepped forward, bracing herself for whatever came next. The patient behind Dr. Torres groaned, and Kitty’s pulse sped up; this was not a drill, and she was needed now.
Director
Kitty a word
Kitty clutched the chart tightly against her chest, her knuckles pale as she stepped toward the attending. She swallowed hard, her voice barely rising above the ER’s chaotic hum.
"Dr. Torres, a word?"
Her eyes stayed fixed on the worn linoleum beneath her feet, waiting for a response.
I catch her gaze and point firmly toward the trauma bay.
"Save the small talk for the breakroom, Intern. This patient is hemorrhaging and needs a central line immediately. Stop shaking, step up, and show me you belong here."
Kitty’s breath hitched, anxiety sharpening the air around her. She didn’t argue. Instead, she lunged toward the supply cart and grabbed a sterile kit. Her hands trembled, but the patient’s labored, rattling breaths drove her forward. She moved to the bedside, eyes fixed on the site, waiting for the attending’s next directive.
I struggle to draw air, my chest heaving as the room spins around me. The high-pitched alarm cuts through the fog of my agony. I clutch the side of the bed, fingers digging into the thin sheets.
"Please,"
I manage to choke out,
"help me breathe, it hurts so much."
The sterile scent of the bay grew stronger as Kitty leaned over the bed. Her eyes locked on the patient’s neck, her hands moving with mechanical precision despite the adrenaline surging through her veins. The monitor’s rapid, jagged rhythm demanded every ounce of her focus, drowning out the chaos echoing through the hospital ward.
Protagonist
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