NINE

5 YEARS LATER

CAMILLE'S POV

No really told you blood wasn't the worst hell you would have to face in the hospital.

The vomiting and the poop was the true hell. I walked into the bathroom, holding my breath so I wouldn't throw up with a face mask hanging over my face. The gloves went in the bin first, then the nose mask.

I stared at the revolting regurgitation on my scrubs and let out a sigh. The blood was the mild part.

After getting rid of my soiled scrubs, I scrubbed in again. My hands methodically lathered with antiseptic as I prepared to put on another glove.

My morning routine in the hospital was a roster of routines and precision and I was needing with the routine. I put on my gloves and secured my mask before entering the bustling ward.

There were beepings, murmurs, and distant chatter everywhere. It was a wonder to me how people came here to heal.

But it was why I chose this line of work. After my father's letter, I wanted to save as many lives as I could.

"Are you alright