1. Why people are so judgmental?

I’ve never wanted to strangle someone so badly.

By now the other nurses in the reception are also paying their attention to us, and most of them had varying expressions on their faces. Some looked pissed off while others looked sympathetic. But none of them came forward to rectify the nurse who was talking to me.

Her name tag reads Clara.

“Fine, then,” I grow!, “I will pay for everything. Add all the charges to my account. I’ll give you all the information.”

The nurse’s mouth quirks downwards, and she gives me a distasteful look. For a split second, I wonder. what I must look like. Somehow, I’d lost my jacket, and the light blue shirt that I wore underneath was covered with blood and grime. My hands are covered with blood as well, drying in the temperature of the room. My hair is disheveled from the wind and running my fingers through it. My expression must be close to insane. I don’t even want to think about the state of my pants and shoes.

I really need to take a shower to even gain a semblance of normalcy and sanity.

But that is no reason for her to judge me the way she is clearly doing. Clara seems to be awfully judgmental.

“Forgive me, sir,” she says in a tone that does not feel forgivable, “but I have some reservations. Perhaps. it would be better if we wait for the patient’s parents to arrive before going on further. You do not seem to be the soundest person to make decisions on behalf of the patient, given your situation.”

“What?”

“You’re clearly shocked. Perhaps you should sit down?”

nurse Clara. Please put my

to call security. You are not the patient’s

“I’m her boss!”

rise to her scalp, “somehow, I

to attack her, more so to discuss this issue with her more thoroughly. I will never let myself stoop low enough to beat a woman. But I see a warning sign go off in her eyes, and she purses her lips before pressing a red colored button on her desk. Then she talks to the microphone in front of her.

the reception table. Please

you! What the hell, I just want to save my friend, let go

me by the arms. They drag me out of the hospital, even when I try to comply with them. As we near

it specifically built to cater douchebags? And

growl to myself and fish out my phone from my pocket and angrily punch at number in my contacts, which added about twelve days ago at the

boringly formal affair.

takes the call.

on the other end exclaims, “are you finally going to take me up on

wait. See, I have a problem here, and

mean, my

hospital after a goddamned shootout, and she got a little dispute with her insurance policy, so

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