One night, whilst I worked

Working as a doctor in the UK, my hospital tagged patients with coloured bands for easy identification. Green: alive. Red: deceased.

One night, whilst I worked, I was instructed to get a few supplies from the basement of the hospital, and so I headed to the lift.

The lift doors opened and there was a patient inside, minding her own business. Patients were allowed to roam around the hospital to stretch, especially those who have stayed long. The rule was to be back in their rooms before midnight.

I smiled at the patient before pressing the number for the basement, though I found it unusual that the woman didn’t have a button already pressed. I wondered if she was heading to the basement too.

The lift finally reached the floor where the doors opened. In the distance a man was limping towards the elevator, his flesh seemed to fall off his stitches face and blood trickled from his mouth.

In panic I slammed the elevator button to close. It finally did and the lift began to ascend back up, my heart was pounding, my anxiety was rising. 

“Why did you do that? He was trying to use the lift.” The woman stated, annoyed.

“Did you see his wrist?” I asked, “It was red. He died last night. I would know because I did his surgery.”

The woman lifted her wrist. And I saw red too.

She smiled, and I noticed her bloody mouth

“Like this one?”, she asked.

© Berkins Daniel