Impure

Twenty

Allyson

I'm half naked and my whole body is on fire. The doctor burnt me yesterday, on spots all over my body. He wants to see how fast I can heal.

The answer is days, thankfully, but for now I'm forced to endure the pain.

My door opens and a woman of about fifty walks in. Her thoughts tell me she just saw Chris for the same thing, and that she's a nurse.

"Hello," she says. "My name is Miranda. I'm here to clean your wounds."

She's pushing a cart that has a bowl with a cloth in it. There are extra clothes beside the bowl.

"Allyson," I tell her.

"I know," she says. "I know the names of all of my patients."

She starts with my arms, and it stings just a bit as she gently soothes the cloth over my burnt skin.

"So I just tended to your friend Chris," she says. "He was worried about you."

What she says does something to my chest.

:"Is he okay?" I ask. "What about my other friends."

"He's alright. In a fair amount of pain, as I'm sure you are. I attend to the rest of your friends after you, but I assume they're in the same state as you, since you all received the same treatment."

"Treatment? More like torture," I say.

I know, she says to my mind. I'm sorry.

"It's not your fault," I tell her. "But you are complicit."

Her mind reacts negatively to that but she doesn't say anything. Instead she simply cleans my arm.

"Well you are," I say. "Just because you show a modicum of warmth to your patients, doesn't make your job good. I'm the one dubbed impure and yet people are running horrible tests on innocent people and they're hailed heroes."

I want Miranda to feel bad.

She does. She ceases washing my left arm for a moment. "You're right. But what else can I do? I have to make a living to survive and this job has insurance. And I try to make my patients' time here better as much as I can."

She continues her washing.

"Oh. This job has insurance. That's how you see it. You know we're in Canada, right? You could always have government insurance."

She sighs. "Okay Allyson. You're right. I'm not a good person, though I try to be. What else can I say?"

"You can say you'll help us escape," I tell her.

She moves on to my torso. "And lose this job?"

"You'd be doing a good thing," I say. "You can become a better person all on your own. You just have to take the right steps."

"How will I feed my children?" Miranda asks.

"There are other jobs!" I nearly shout. "Jesus why don't you care? Why doesn't anybody care?"

"Calm down, Allyson, please. Listen, I can't help you escape. I'm sorry. But you have to understand why."

"I understand why, and I'm disgusted that you choose to remain here knowing that evil takes place here." I reply.

She's quiet for the rest of the time she washes me, and when she's done, she simply says, "I'll be back with pain medication later," and then leaves, taking her cart with her.