Hospital of Hell

Three

Scarlett

"I swear to all things fucking holy, Scarlette Lemar, get fucking dressed and let's go," Saraphine groans out as I lay in nothing but a fluffy towel on my king-sized bed. My hair is wet and tangled, my body aching from the last nineteen hours. We just got off about an hour ago, Saraphine deciding to just ride with me and stay at my house seeing as we have to go back in tomorrow.

I groan at her persistent pleads to go downtown to the local club with her. Part of me wants to go, but the other part of me is screaming for an everlasting sleep. Mumbling grumpily to myself I stand to my feet, clutching the towel around my body. I go to my closet and find a quick and simplistic outfit. An oversized sweater and leggings. Seeing as it is dead in the middle of winter, I pair it with some army boots. I lazily brush my hair before using a diffuser to dry my curls.

I always wear shirts that are too big for me, it is comfortable. I am only ever seen in my scrubs, which don't compliment my figure whatsoever, and large shirts. It isn't that I am ashamed of my curvy body. I simply have worked in the Hospital of Hell far too long. More than a few men have copped an unwanted or an unexpected feel of me and my lady bits. I work hard for my figure, doing my best to stay in the gym. I do it for me, not for eyes filled with perverted lust.

Saraphine pokes her head into my bathroom as I apply some mascara to my long lashes, watching my blue eyes glisten against my pale skin. Her blonde hair bounces with each movement of her head. Her usual wavy length is straight and neat. "You ready?" She smiles widely. She always dresses up, no matter how long and hard the day was she still puts admirable amount of effort into how she looks. I admire her for it. I've never been able to be like her in that way. When I'm drained, I'm lucky if I even take a shower.

I nod my head and follow her out the front door, shivering once the midnight air begins to bite at me through my clothes. The drive to the small club is loud and obnoxious a Saraphine screams break up songs at the top her lugs, despite the fact she has been in a committed relationship for three years.

Despite our long lifetime of friendship, Saraphine and I are damn near polar opposites. She is the outgoing, loud, has always been in a committed relationship, ever since we were kids. Whereas I am more closed off, more independent. I have had one relationship and it only lasted six months. To make the situation even worse, it was Saraphine's brother.

We went to elementary and middle school together, then once we hit freshman year my dad moved us across the city. We rekindled our friendship in college. She was offered the same job as I was, just a few years later. We've been inseparable ever since. We experience the same hospital trauma, and despite us coping in different manners, we still find comfort in each others presence alone.

The parking lot is full, people walking in and out of the obnoxious building. We walk up to the front door and show our ID's before walking in. We walk towards the bar, and I look around as we do so. People are dancing, drinking, dry jumping, simply having a good, intoxicated time.

I had never been big on the going out lifestyle up until this past year. Hell, I had only been drunk a handful of times prior. This job and my loneliness started to take a toll on me, therefore I started going out more often. I am not proud of it, but I am content with it until something else genuinely piques my interest.

"Two shots of Don Julio and two tequila sun rises, please," Saraphine grins widely, nearly bouncing in her shoes. I shake my head as I take a seat. Tequila will be the death of me.

The building is pretty big. There's a second floor, mainly used for VIP and private events. I've never seen the point of paying it any mind. Who is paying a thousand dollars or better to sit around a crowded booth and get intoxicated? I can think of a million things I would rather spend my hard earned money on.