1 | Out of Nowhere
|SELENE|
Water droplets drip from my soaked clothes, drenching the once-cozy welcome mat by the door.
Darn it.
Mom’s totally gonna flip.
“Sweetie, don’t forget your umbrella. The weather forecast says it’s going to pour today.”
She shouted over the porch this morning, missing me by a fraction of a second before an old beat-up Civic rolled up on the road, driven by my best friend and partner-in-crime (or saving the world), Jess Kimber. But even though I heard the warning in her last scream, I managed to shove it to the back of my mind after reaching the hospital, convincing myself that no weather forecast ever predicted anything accurately.
In 2020, there was a big buzz about a massive earthquake on the horizon. They even flagged some areas as high-risk, and the government took it seriously, evacuating those zones overnight. It was a real shocker when, guess what, no earthquake happened. Instead, out of nowhere, a massive landslide hit a completely different part of the country.
That day was an absolute tragedy, and it hit hard. The government even called for a whole five minutes of silence to remember all those we lost.
And let’s not forget the craziness from last year. When everyone was going on and on about this hurricane near the coast, scaring the living daylights out of everyone. The news channels had a blast with it. Reporters kept popping up every twenty minutes, pretty much saying the same thing over and over, hoping for some action.
But, lo and behold, that darn hurricane never graced us with its presence. Later, they ran a whole news special patting themselves on the back for scaring it away with our supposed fancy technology. Go figure!
I mean, seriously, who the heck do they think we are? Damn stupid? Like we don’t see through the incompetence of our government and its agencies? Trust me, people get it. But they’re just too darn scared to voice it. We all know what happens when someone dares to criticize our so-called flawless government—they mysteriously disappear off the face of the earth.
So, you can imagine my shock when the very moment I stepped out of the hospital after finishing my shift, finally ready to head home, the heavens decided to open up, and it started raining cats and dogs.
I press the doorbell, already preparing myself for the scolding I was going to get.
In case it wasn’t clear already, my mom is an absolute clean freak. She can’t stand messes, not even a bit. Perhaps that’s why she insists on me taking a thorough shower before leaving for work. But it doesn’t end there; because she can’t be sure if I’ve actually done the scrubbing, she makes me shower again once I’m back home. She’s just way too paranoid for her own good.
My whole body stiffens as the door finally swings open, revealing my mom, her hand firmly on her hip. Her eyes narrowed, a scowl already etched across her face. She shakes her head disapprovingly. “This girl. Never listens. Never.”
I try my best not to roll my eyes. “Sorry, Mom. It started raining out of nowhere, and I didn’t have time to react.”
“Out of nowhere?” Her tone is like nails on a chalkboard.
I wince. “I mean, you did give me a heads up, but you see, I was in a hurry…”
“You’re always in a hurry, Selene. Always.”
“Oh, for the love of God, let her come inside. She’s going to catch a cold otherwise. What’s wrong with you, woman?” My dad’s voice emerges from somewhere in the TV room, and I sigh in relief.
If anyone can counteract my mom’s intensity, it has to be Dad. He’s the only one who can make her back off. However, how he pays for his audacity later on remains a mystery to me.
Maybe that’s why I don’t have siblings.
I scoff mentally. Yeah, as if…
Though Mom continues to give me dirty looks, I quickly step inside when she opens the door wider for me, shedding my rain-soaked jacket and leaving a small puddle by the door.
I try to give her a hug—sometimes being all cute melts her shoddy mood—but she shoots me another heated glare, and I squirm, distancing myself. “Okay. No hug, then.”
“Go, shower. Dinner’s almost ready,” she grumbles, turns, and leaves me at the door.
I let out a heavy sigh.
I peel off my soggy sneakers, mud clinging to them like a second skin, and cradle them in my hands. I’ll need to give them a good scrub before they’re fit for another day at work tomorrow. It’s not that I can’t afford an extra pair, but what’s the point?
The current ones are in perfect shape and do the job just fine. I’d rather invest in a pair of good heels if I have to.
It’s been almost a century since Jess and I went out to have some fun. Our nursing jobs demand so much of our time and energy, leaving us with little room for anything else.
The few hours of freedom we manage to snatch from our crazy schedules are usually dedicated to essential chores like restocking our empty refrigerators and catching up on some much-needed sleep. It doesn’t help that we both are the only offspring of our parents. While I’ve never had a sibling my entire life, Jess’ older brother disappeared when he was just nine years old. I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness. If Jason were here today, he would’ve been probably pushing thirty.
I hop on my bare feet and hurry for the stairs, though I make a quick stop in the TV room to give Dad a rundown of everything that happened at the hospital. Dad lowers the volume of the TV and listens to me attentively, occasionally offering insights on the doctor’s decisions or suggesting alternative approaches that might have yielded better results.
The sparkle in Dad’s eyes when we have these conversations has always been one of the highlights of my day. My dad used to be a cardiac surgeon himself, but his career took a nosedive due to one difficult and arrogant patient. All his hard work and dedication crumbled because that unreasonable patient couldn’t control my dad the way he wanted to. I still don’t know all the details of that incident; Dad doesn’t like to talk about it. “Leave the past in the past,” he always says.
This was the reason I couldn’t become a doctor myself. After dad lost his license and got fired from the hospital, it took him a long time to find work that could actually pay him enough to run the family. Dad has always been fond of vintage cars, and knew his way around since he also had learned the ropes from his own grandfather, who used to work with old cars, fixing them up, and then selling them for a profit.
Long story short, Dad owns his own mechanic shop now and loves what he does. Or at least that’s how he tries to portray it.
“Well, at least your doc managed to save the patient; at the end of the day, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” He scoffs, not at all satisfied with how today’s surgery was handled. I was frustrated too. But nurses could only do so much.
I sigh. “Don’t worry, Dad. He’s probably not gonna stay here for a long time. No one does.” Government hospitals weren’t the kind of places the doctors these days saw their future. Almost every three months, we have a new doctor, which is like the minimum time a doctor has to give to a government hospital, just like every man in our county had to give 18 months in the military.
Dad leans back on the couch, crossing his legs on the table, his eyes focused on the screen. “I just wish they’d invest more in these hospitals, you know? It’s tough on everyone when doctors keep leaving. The patients suffer, the staff is constantly adjusting to new faces, and it’s not good for the community.”
He’s right, of course, but that’s the world we live in. An unfair world.
I shrug and start for the stairs. “Yup, it’s tough. But it’s what I signed up for. Besides, it’s not forever. Once I’ve paid off these student loans, I’ll have more options.”
Dad doesn’t say anything, just hums.
I don’t press either. Sometimes I feel like he still regrets what happened years ago, with that jerk of a patient and all, and not being able to support our family like he could have if he could still practice. No doubt our lives would have been different if we still lived on the posh side of the city, much less dire if anything. But that’s okay, I think. To be honest, our lives aren’t even that bad. I’m happy with what I have. Content even. Well, for the most part, at least.
I reach my room and push open the door. After that, everything happens quickly.
I toss my bag on the chair and shoes on the corner of the bathroom door. Pull my hair up and secure it with a clip before stripping and stepping into the shower.
The warm water streams down, washing away the day’s exhaustion and any lingering memories, even if only temporarily. My mind goes blissfully blank as I go through my shower routine, taking my time to pamper every inch of my body.
I grab a generous handful of shampoo, work up a good lather, and massage it into my hair, enjoying the feeling of my fingers working through the strands. With the suds rinsed away, I linger under the showerhead just a bit longer, relishing the soothing warmth and allowing the hot water to wash away not just the grime but also the stresses of the day.
Something flashes in the back of my mind, a memory from a week ago, and I can’t help the way my stomach clenches and my core throbs as I remember what happened that night.
