Chapter 6: 1_ ch 5: interlude. a Doctor’s

In a hospital hallway, a certain man was walking.

The man had a smile on his face, showing his positive attitude, with his disheveled hair showing his tiredness, but even so, he was looking good enough for an overworked doctor.

The man’s name was “George Smith”, commonly called “Dr. Smith”.

And so ...

Such a serious man was walking tiredly toward his office, with signs of his recent lack of sleep clear on his face, like dark circles under his eyes.

Reaching his office, the man closed the door behind him and sat at his desk.

Taking a deep breath, the man tried to calm his mind.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

And like that.

After who knows how many minutes had passed, the man finally calmed himself.

But just as he was trying to open his eyes again, and look at his desk, a file fell in his view field.

Seeing such file, with the picture of a patient, and the name of “Alice Whitefield”. the man’s control over his emotion broke once again.

“Dammit.”

And like that, the man stood from his chair violently, forcing it to be thrown back.

And ignoring such a chair, the tired doctor couldn’t stop cursing and trashing the thing on his desk.

“Dammit. Dammit, Dammit, Dammit. Why ?, Why?, Why?”

Trashing around the office room for a while, the man finally restored his calm and took a spot on the couch.

Sitting there, and closing his eyes.

The man’s thoughts started to drift.

Remembering the emotionless-looking face of a certain girl.

A girl that goes by the name “Alice Whitefield”.

To the man known as Dr. Smith, she was one of his patients.

But that doesn’t mean that he didn’t think of her as more.

George Smith was an only child, and as such had no siblings.

And even as he grew, he didn’t have many friends.

Not zero, indeed.

Males and females. Indeed.

But they were not many.

Still, to the man, it was enough.

And as such, even though he is reaching the 29s of his life, he is still a single man, with no romantic relationship.

And instead is focusing on his job.

A doctor that can help others.

A doctor that can save others.

A doctor that can comfort others.

That was his raison d'être in life.

And as such, he was motivated to help her.

A high-school girl, that fell coma for a week, from an unknown illness.

For three years, he was taking care of her.

And as such, to the man with no siblings, or a daughter.

The girl becomes such an existence to him.

Days after days, of interacting was more than enough for him to start seeing her as a little sister, or maybe a daughter, it was not important.

And because of that, the fact that she will be discharged from this hospital after 3 years, should be a piece of good news to him, enough for a celebration to be made.

But instead, here he is, trashing in his office room.

But clarification is necessary, as he is not lonely, or sad, but wrathful.

Is his anger toward the girl leaving? No.

Is his anger toward himself? No.

His anger is toward the world itself.

His anger is toward the cruelty of fate.

For the reason “Alice Whitefield” is being discharged, is not the freedom from her illness.

But that her life is predicted to last at most 3 months.

For a girl that was in the hospital for 3 years, with no results, at least she can die free from its imprisonment, or so is the said reason.

But such a thing doesn’t matter.

What matters is that they, that he, “George Smith”, failed in the only thing that he believed in.

Saving patients.

And even after three years, he could not help her.

And as such, the man, could only, frustrated as he is, accepts such a result, for the girl has no blame for him.

For the girl, even as life-limited as she is, has accepted such an outcome.

But still ...

“But still, how can life be so cruel to her ?”

To people who know “Alice Whitefield”, they can testify that she is a cold person that ignores others.

But even then, they will also be sure to say that she won’t refuse to help some if she has judged them deserving.

For she was talented in such things.

Judging others, misleading others, guiding others, or even training them.

That was her talent.

To see the truth, between a person’s lies, To see the facts in rumors, To judge the person from the crowd.

She was such a person.

And as such, people looked up to her, respected her, but didn’t befriend her, instead they idolized her.

To people, she was a perfect person.

A great beauty, An all-possible talent, An elegant way of life, and rich background.

In their view, she was simply the favorite child of heaven.

“How ironic. For them to look up to her, idolize her, and respect her, just for them to underestimate her later.”

“she ...? Favorite of heaven ....? Talented ....? Perfect ...?.

Did they forget? No, they have forgotten. Even some adults have apparently forgotten.

That she is nothing but a kid.”

“For them to speak however they want, without knowing her. For them to attribute everything she has done to talent. That is no different from looking down on her.

Dammit.”

And so, angrily the doctor spoke.

Sigh.

And then finally restoring his calm once again, the man thought about what he knows about her.

For others, they only know the perfect human persona called “Alice”, a persona created from their own beliefs, and for their own desires.

But he, at least know more than them.

To him, he can still remember the first time that he had met her.

And his first impression is that she was but a lonely kid.

Even as she was unconscious in the hospital for more than a whole week, there were barely any visits.

For a person that was supposedly a popular and famous person, to have no visit, such a thing was sad.

But he knew, that to her, to “Alice”, such things were no new.

Being alone at school, such things are nothing to her.

For she, “Alice Whitefield”, was an orphan.

Her father dead, before she was born.

Her mother neglecting her, and then dying, to leave her alone.

Leaving a child, behind.

To people, “Alice” was blessed, but was it not a curse to her?

Because of her talent, her mother neglected her. Because of her talent, people avoided her. Because of her talent, she was alone.

But even then, because of her talent, she survived and didn’t end up as a corpse of a dead child.

It was her way, even if cursed, or maybe blessed.

It doesn’t matter, for she will do what she can.

For she was one to achieve what she wanted.

And as talented as she is, she is a hard worker.

Even as a child, from a normal background, with no help, alone, and with no family, she has survived.

She has worked hard, and achieved success, with talent, with hard work, but more importantly, alone.

With no need to help, with her own power.

Making her own achievement.

But for life, then, to suddenly end.

How cruel can the world be?

“But I guess to her, It is not that big, ‘so my life will end? not new, I am used to that now.’ or something similar will be her response, I bet.”

And so the man stopped thinking.

For any more, will be a blasphemy to her way of life.