Queen Of Hearts | Roger Taylor

XXVI

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For the first time since the boys had left for the tour, the sun was shining. I woke up with it blasting through the curtains. The sound of my alarm was also blaring me awake, so to say that it was a good morning, was not in the cards. I wanted to turn around and go to sleep so badly, but I had to work. The hospital was counting on me to be there.

I shut off my alarm and stepped out of bed. My room had been less of a mess lately, maybe because I wasn't here to make it one. The house was also too quiet, which made me not want to be here even more. It had been five weeks since my brother left. In two weeks, they'd be back and I was dreading that moment each time it came closer.

After brushing my teeth, I stepped in the shower to wash away the dirt quickly. I didn't need to wash my hair since doing that yesterday, which I was happy about. When I was done, I wrapped a towel around my body and walked to my room. I picked out the most boring outfit ever, just some jeans and a dark coloured shirt – I tried not to dress too obscene since it was just work after all.

While searching for some socks, I found a pair in my drawer that were too big and colourful to belong to me. I threw them in the box that was standing in the corner of my room. Roger's stuff. I meant to take it to his apartment, but still hadn't had the time. There was also still a shining gold key on my chain that I needed to give back.

Breakfast consisted out of some toast and a cup of tea. I didn't have too much time, but that was alright. I quickly walked back to my room, putting on some lipstick and grabbing my purse. The box was still staring at me, and I had enough of it. I picked it up and took it with me. I would drop if off after work.

The morning-dew was beautiful. The streets were still empty when I walked to the car. I put the box in the backseat, thinking about that later. I stepped in, turning on the engine and putting on my seatbelt. Then I drove away. It was quiet on the road, so I made it to work early, which gave me extra time to walk up to the lounge.

I said hello to a few colleagues, not paying too much attention and wanting to get to work as soon as possible. There was a lot that I needed to do. I made my rounds first, checking to see if all my patients were doing alright today. The psychiatric win of the hospital was a safe space for people to let out their feelings, and some of them stayed for a few days. We never wanted any of them to be alone while going through something diffecult.

When my lunch break was over, I was called down to the emergency room for a consult. Jackie – my supervisor, mostly send me down because I was familiar with the staff working there. I took the elevator down and when I walked out, I was greeted by one of the attendings.

"Dr. May, how nice to see you," he greeted me. Dr. Sparrow was a little older than I was, he had finished his studies two years ago and was now working here. He was tall, had a slim figure and dark hair that was always neatly combed back. He was the stereotypical doctor.

"Dr. Sparrow, it's always a pleasure. What have you got for me today?" I asked him.

He handed me the chart. "Seven-year-old girl, she was in a car accident with her mother. Police found different kinds of narcotics in car, which may have caused the accident. She refuses to talk, we hoped you could try."

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. Does she have a name?" I asked. I couldn't really barge in there while not knowing anything about this little girl.

"Monica," he said. I smiled at him, thanking him again and walking to the treatment room she was in.

I opened the door, peeking around the corner and seeing her lying in a big hospital bed. She wasn't hooked up to any machines, which gave me a reassuring feeling. I felt bad for her that she was in an accident, let alone if she was seriously injured. There was a band aid on her eyebrow, and she had her arm in a sling, but that was all. She looked at me when I walked in and closed the door.