Celia
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my white coat, I leaned to the glass looking at the peacefully sleeping babies in their small beds. The harsh truth, a truth that could slap us right across our face is that these beds could be their death beds too. Hundreds of children were born and died every day. The babies I am looking at are premature, born underweight, or with pulmonary or cardiac problems. They looked peaceful, sound asleep. But the fact they are struggling to breathe is not known. They are suffocating just like me. They have incubators, hospitals, and us to cure. Whom do I have? Soon after the question was popped into my head, I got a call from Sasha.
"Celia?"
"Hmm."
"Where are you?"
"Hmm."
I heard the breath she let out there," looking at the babies?"
"Hmm."
"Okay. I won't take much time. Can you reach ho
Celia "You don't know. She is a loner. No friends other than Lillian. Never goes for outing, clubbing and has not dated a guy in 3 years. I think she has some attitude problems. She won't even answer any queries. Always stares at those babies in incubators. She is odd. Garrett knows a little about her. He says that she lost her entire family because of which she is facing some mental illness and trauma too. At first, I used to think that she is mute. And she absolutely has zero sense of fashion and style. I mean, have you looked at the rags she wears? They are totally………." I've been hearing these appreciations and praises thrown up on me like for ages. Either they would've thought I wasn't there or they won't care even if I listen. Either way, I don't give a shit. By the way, Lillian is fuming I guess I've to stop her from ripping someone's head. "What the hell do they know about you?" She yelled when I grab
Celia Why did I do that? Why? How could I be so goosey? Did I forgot who is he? Did I take this as a child play? No. I know what it is. Then why? Why Celia? I think this is the first mindless act I did in three years. I stood not with a regret but a self imposed need to keep this job, this study. 'Cause without this,I don't know how I could earn my bread. "Dr. Celia,You gave a wrong treatment for a patient which almost costed his life. " "Who is that patient?" "Alexander King." Dr. Wilson replied. I am here before this old perv not for mistreating some mister asshole. But for throwing spirit on his very expensive shirt. "He is perfectly alright. He is cured a long time ago." "And the reports are saying otherwise." He gave a sympathetic sigh. Celia,If you've listened
Celia Little Cayden is really excited since I've told him that I'm on leave and gonna take him out. He ran all around the house crying, "park,park.…" I couldn't really tell Sasha that I was detained. At least not until I could do something about it. But how? How could I meet that guy again? Half of the day was gone quickly with me and Cayden going everywhere we like and eating everything that pleased us. Afternoon I took him to the restaurant where Sasha works. Cayden held my finger with his hand as he looked scared as we entered the dainty restaurant. So she works at a place like this. It's so colourful totally contrasting to my workplace. Technically, I don't have a workplace anymore. "Celia." Stephan,Sasha's colleague greeted me and took me into his arms. He's a nice young man who is really looking forward to take his relationship with Sasha to next level. He made that too obvious. But Sasha doesn't respond at all. She says there's
Celia If I ever had a chance to get into people's minds, I'll get into Sasha's head, to find what she is thinking while looking blankly out of the window, stroking her kid's hair who was asleep in her laps. She is just like me. Or maybe I've become just like her in the past three years. We are reserved, we don't talk much. We will fill our heads with so much trash that one day I'm afraid it will burst out. I cleared my throat to get her attention. She looked at me and smiled. A fake one. I knew that with one look itself. "A penny for your thoughts?" "I was thinking about our future." "Our future?" She kissed her kid's forehead and laid him to her side. "Yeah. We need a house, a kind of house where we could fly when you or I feel sad or upset because of our future partners, the kind of place that exists just for us, a secure roof. Even when
The ride is so plain. It has no excitement or a kiss of wanderlust I've had last time. I came here on Lillian's bike alone to get out of the blood, white, and blue for some time. Back then, I wasn't aware of the fact that he was right behind me watching me, racing me and that's how he took interest in me. Now, there's a part of me wishing that he is here and we would have a little conversation we never had. These are some facts I've to admit at least to myself. When I first saw him, I was beyond fascinated. It might be his charms, his golden skin, his attitude, or the lighter. His voice is deep which is capable of leaving imprints of his vocals resonating through every nerve of my body. When I first saw him, he's just an arrogant, gorgeous pervert. When I saw him for the second time, he was a beautiful pain in the ass who succeeded in taking my breath away with a single touch. I was willing to give him what he wants with a little delay because I was that af
CeliaI feel like I'm some psycho. I should cry. Shouldn't I? He raped me. I hate him. I must take some action. I have to file a complaint. He needs to be punished. I have to rub his scent off me, sanitize my mouth to wipe off his taste. I have to shower, clean. And here I'm, sitting on my couch and doing nothing. It could've happened in a different way. I was about to make up my mind to do this thing. Don't ask me why. Maybe for my job, or to cool this fire between us. We could've done that on a bed, slowly. I'm foolish to even imagine that. He isn't a man but a beast. I should have realized that. Maybe I did. But I wasn't planning for this. My brain is a complete mess now. I am waging a war with my thoughts. I'm afraid his words might become true.** No women want it.He simply said without giving a second thought and second pause, "You do." ** Do I?
Celia** "You know what it is called." "Rape?" "No woman wants it." "You do." "You want punishment. You are thinking that you deserve it." "you are not responsible for what happened to your mom. You don't have to do it." ** Now I don't have one thing that I always had, "I don't give a fuck" attitude. Shit! This is my life. Why is it being so clueless and oblivious suddenly? Everywhere I go either my past follows or Mr. Brute crosses. Is this fate? Is there anything like that exists? I wanted to believe in it. How can't I when I'm watching him parking his car exactly in the parking lot of the bar I intended to go? I hate that car. I wanted a ride and a or few drinks alone. But he is here too. When he left, I did something stupid yet thing that satisfied my ego. I bought some sticky
Celia I have not been arrested yet. I have not imagined my day like this. I've Visioned an officer in a dress coat, assigned insignia, pressed uniform shirt, uniform pants, white gloves, a tie, and a formal police hat asking for me. That's too much imagination I guess. But no one came for me and I believe this is his doing. The day is awfully sluggish. I did what I always do and am terribly tired of doing those same things every day. My body is near to worn out since I had a twenty-four hours shift. I haven't removed my white coat when I was walking out of the hospital. My phone buzzed. I saw a text from an unknown number which says, " Come to me, NOW. Elijah will take you." Before I comprehend the text, I hit someone. My head hardly reached his chest. The pole before me is an old man in a clean shave and bald head. His eyes are pale blue. If my guess is right, he is somewhere near sixty.