"The vultures are disguised as humans."
Scarlet Turner has her last semester of high school planned out: graduate as best as she can and take care of her sick mother. But when she's told she won't graduate because of the pile of tardies she's collec...
AN OBNOXIOUS BEEPING AND the shuffling of several nurses and medical examiners distracted Scarlet from her grueling task—applying to other colleges and universities. Her mother alternated between flipping through countless magazines and dozing off on the chair. A stream of crimson ran down the tubes and into her port, transferring the chemo from the bag into her system.
Other patients received similar treatments. Most of them had lost consciousness, slipping into the effects of the chemo. The room held the softest hum from various machines and the AC that never went out. She tugged at her chunky cardigan, wrapping it tighter around her body as she scrolled through university pages.
Scarlet rolled her eyes at all the staged photos from each campus. Every student looked happy to be there, or perhaps that was the filter they used. She ignored it all and went to find the different majors available.
The list of majors started looking the same in every website. None of it spoke to her. She didn't have a creative bone in her body. She wasn't the smartest to be inventing things out of thin air. The "easy way out" was a simple business degree, but the idea of it made her want to claw her eyes out. She couldn't understand how Jake could be interested in it.
"Any luck?" Her mother croaked, then cleared her throat.
Scarlet hunched over her laptop, reading major after major. Finance, Communications, Education. A never ending lists of different sciences jumped out at her from the screen. None of it enticed her enough to check what they could offer.
Every molecule of her being wanted to forget all about college and go back to dreaming about blue eyes.
"I hate this," she proclaimed, exiting out of the window. She went through her list of colleges and universities with affordable tuitions and chose a random school.
"Have you applied to any of them?"
Scarlet nodded, though the vague action might have looked unsure. Since her mother started her treatment, she had applied to a total of three colleges, in addition to LCC. Every time, she applied with the flashing Undecided under major.
Starting off on the right foot and lodging it between rotten wood.
"I have no idea what to pick," Scarlet admitted.
After another meaningless scroll through the undergraduate programs, she closed her laptop and leaned her head back against the cream-colored wall. Her mother twisted her face to look her in the eye. A soft smile haunted her lips—her attempt at reassurance in her condition.
"What do you like, sweetheart?" Her mother asked.
Such a simple question, but it provoked zero thoughts in her mind. Scarlet wracked her brain for an answer. Her eyebrows furrowed as nothing came up.
Her life consisted of surviving the hell that was high school and then taking care of her mother. She never had enough time to develop any other interests. Other than Jake, but that was a different type of like.
"You must have something," her mother continued, though her voice gave out by the end. Scarlet tugged at a loose strand of hair framing her face, closing her eyes at the pull of her scalp. "Anything that interests you?"
"All I do in life is take care of you, Mom," she said. "And that's all I know how to do. There isn't anything else. I'm not artistic. I'm not creative. I'm not problem-solving. I'm just kind of there."
Her mother hummed in thought. "You take care of others, Scarlet."
"I take care of you," Scarlet pointed at her chest, "big difference."
The weakest smile adorned her features, lighting up her dark eyes. "Doesn't mean you can't take care of other people...or patients."
The insinuation made her take pause.
"Are you really suggesting I go for the medical field?" Scarlet asked. Her mother pursed her lips. "Mom, I don't want a big, red sign over my head counting all the thousands of dollars I'll owe for a degree. I don't want to do that to myself when I still have you to take care of."
Her mother shook her head lightly. "You don't need massive debt to study in the medical field. There are so many positions you can study for that isn't becoming a doctor, though you can do that too, if you want." Scarlet stared at the ceiling as her thoughts tumbled over one another. "So think about that, because patients need compassionate people like you to be walking through hospital halls and clinics. Lord knows we need people that do it for the goodness of their hearts and not to fill their pockets."
Silence engulfed them, and Scarlet watched as her mother slipped into unconsciousness. A nurse came to check that everything was well, and scurried away to the next patient. She took a deep breath and opened her laptop once again, a newer sense of determination burning in the center of her chest.
Instead of searching through colleges and universities, she clicked onto the web browser and typed: medical field majors. Hitting the enter key, her stomach fluttered at the amount of websites advertising the different options out there for her. Nursing trumped as the most popular one.
She sat back and watched the various nurses doing their jobs. No matter how hard she tried to envision herself working in a hospital setting like that, she couldn't. Her mother was right, she did know how to take care of a person—not professionally—but that was all she was ever forced to learn when she started high school. But she couldn't kid herself and say she'd like to work in a hospital. The less she went into a hospital, the better.
There had to be career paths in the medical field that didn't require employees to work at a hospital setting.
Scarlet played with her hair, rolling it in between her fingers as she read article after article. Nursing, technicians, doctors, assistants. Everything meshed together until she read occupational therapy assistant. Eyebrow raised, she clicked for more information.
"And you're good to go for the day!" A perky nurse said after taking out the IV from her mother's port. Scarlet spied the emptied bag on the hook, deprived of its red substance, and swallowed the shocked lump in her throat as her mother blinked several times to rid of her sleep.
"Thank you, Lilianne," her mother murmured as the nurse helped her into a standing position. Scarlet threw her laptop inside her bag and hurried to her mother's side, taking hold of her hand.
"Are you okay to walk out?" Lilianne asked. "I could get a chair."
Her mother shook her head. "I can do it."
"Are you sure, Mom?" Scarlet furrowed her brows as her mother took a few steps defiantly. "Don't force yourself."
"I'm fine, sweetie. Let's go home."
Scarlet gave Lilianne an exasperated look, and the nurse held back a smile. She hooked her arm with her mother's, leading her out of the hospital and into the warm air of California.
Before they could reach her car, her mother turned to her, a grimace on her face. "I think I need a bag."
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