Secret Crown

I. One

Scarlett

My phone alarm went off at six a.m. sharp. Ringing loud and obnoxiously, signaling it was another day of the same routine, another twelve-hour shift at Chicago General Hospital, consisting of three major back-to-back surgeries for today, I dragged myself out of bed, changed into my generic blue hospital scrubs and sneakers, and made my way down the creaky wooden hallway towards my bathroom. The entire second floor was taken over by me in our house since my mother couldn't come up here anymore. I passed by the closed door of my mother's old bedroom, which was now a storage room for all her medical equipment. The room served as a sad reminder of her condition. I quickly brushed my teeth and tied my wild curls into a quick and easy bun, preferring comfort over beauty. Working long hours in the hospital had me on the same cycle every day. Eat, sleep, work, and repeat. I took a deep breath as I mentally prepared myself for the day ahead, psyching myself up in the mirror: "You got this Scar! Just 550k more and you'll be free!"

I was a year into my dream residency at Chicago General Hospital. I'd hoped to get rid of my medical school debt a couple years after I finished the program, but with my mother permanently disabled after we were in a bloody car accident when I was little, all my money was going towards her medical bills, and keeping a roof over our heads fell on my shoulders. Not a day went by where I didn't miss my father. I don't have many memories of him, but the ones I do have are sweet and warm. He died when I was seven in the same car accident that left my mother disabled. I was in the car with them but got out practically injury-free by some crazy wild miracle. We remained on the West side of Chicago in a small, tight-knit community consisting of mostly Hispanics. The neighborhood was slowly getting gentrified and pushing people out of their homes through new construction taking over from rich families like Clarkes Industries. I splashed cold water on my face one last time before I ran downstairs, grabbing my book bag that I used as my purse and an apple from the fruit bowl at the center of our rounded table. "Scar that you? Mom yelled from her bedroom.

"Yeah mom! I'm just heading out for work now! You need anything?"

"Just some water!" she yelled with a rasp in her voice. I quickly grabbed a glass cup off the counter and filled it up with water from the pitcher in our fridge. "Here you go, mom," I said, smiling down at her in her bed. "Thanks Scar." She smiled. "Have a great day at work."

"I will, mom. I smiled at her and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

"Do you mind pulling the curtains open for me before you leave, Scar?"

"No problem," I said as I reached behind her, pulling open the heavy white curtains. Letting the sunshine over her dark, black, curly hair.

"Alright mom, I've got to go! "I'll see you tonight, okay? I smiled back at her one final time before walking out of her bedroom.

The morning was gloomy and cold today as I made my way out the house through my short metal gate towards my rusty but dependable bucket, my old 1969 black Mustang Boss. It was pretty much the only thing I owned that held some monetary value if I put in the money to get her fixed and back to her original glory days. She was handed down to me by my late father. It was the only thing he left behind for me, aside from the photos that were somewhere in our attic. I dreaded going into work as soon as I pulled into my parking space at the hospital, where I'd spend six days of the week hands-deep in someone's organs and body. As I walked from the parking lot to the entrance of the main hospital, I could hear someone walking behind me. "Scar baby!" Jonas called from behind me with an ugly, crooked smile. "You didn't answer my texts."

I turned around, rolling my eyes. "If I didn't respond, that means I'm not interested in talking to you."

"I like a challenge," he grinned, flashing his yellowed teeth. "Why don't you throw this lonely dog a bone?"

"Why don't you leave me alone, asshole?" I yelled as I picked up my pace, trying to put some distance between us. Jonas had been trying to get me to go out on a date with him to the point where it became harassment. He was more on the bulky side with thick, dark blond short hair. He always smoked cigarettes when he could, so he always reeked of smoke, and his teeth were yellow. After he got my number without my consent and constantly pestered and harassed me, I reported him to HR. But being the son of one of the biggest donors to this hospital came with its perks, and that included erasing any trace of their precious money bag ever having sexually harassed another employee. He was let off with a slap on the wrist and allowed to roam the hospital freely, like he owned the place. As I reached the sliding doors, I rushed into the women's locker room. I checked the schedule for today and the team to see who would be working alongside me for my surgeries, only to see that Jonas was stuck with me for the next 12 hours. Great I sighed another hefty dose of Jonas today.

 As I made my way to the first case of the day, it was a patient who needed a tumor removed for biopsy right below his right lung was being prepared for the OR while we got ready. As I had changed into clean scrubs and finished washing up for surgery, Jonas walked in with his team, followed by the stench of cigarettes. "It's you and me all day today, baby," he said, giving me a fake smile through his surgeon's mask. I rolled my eyes as I made my way into the operating room. The nurses and anesthesiologist greeted Jonas and me as we walked in and got to work. Jonas would make his usual sly remarks under his breath as we would be working together on the patient. It was hard enough having to focus on the patient below me while trying to shut out Jonas' comments. No one would dare say anything to stop it, though. They knew who his father was, and they all feared for their jobs if they spoke out. So, each day we'd just endure it, or they'd pretend they didn't hear it.

As my first surgery ended, it was already past my lunch time, and had to prepare for the next case before being able to eat something. The attending surgeon was a favorite teacher of mine by the name of Dr. Freeman. I was his star pupil, and unlike the rest of the staff here, he wasn't afraid to talk down on Jonas. That would be the highlight of my day today, knowing Dr. Freeman would be with me for the next case. After that surgery ended, I wished for a miracle to get me through the rest of the day when I wouldn't have my favorite teacher to back me up. Jonas seemed to have a never-ending battery of stupid remarks and large amounts of annoyingness.

Avoiding him was almost like an acquired skill. That was needed in order to survive this place. The pay was the best in all of Chicago, so I couldn't just leave. At least not yet. As it finally came time for my lunch, I rushed off quickly towards the cafeteria to try and eat before Jonas' surgery was finished. As I walked past the nursing station on the OR floor, I could hear the nurses talking about my first surgery. "She probably gets away with her hair because she's fucking Jonas," the petite scheduling assistant said under her breath to the nurse who was leaning over the desk. Both of their heads turned as I walked by them. "No one is fucking anyone. I said sternly as I walked by them. They both stood up straight and simultaneously said, "Dr. Rivera! We weren't talking about you. They cleared their throats as their faces flushed bright red.

"It sure as hell sounded like you were. I raised a brow. "We're sorry," they guiltily frowned, "it won't happen again."

"There better not be a next time," I grinned before continuing my path towards the cafeteria. I always ate alone there anyway. No one wanted to be affiliated with me because of Jonas, and even then, I didn't care so much for it. I was here to save lives, gather experience, and, once I was debt-free, start my own practice. Far away from Jonas and this city. I was like the outsider in the hospital. Always alone with an annoying fly buzzing around me that kept everyone away. Once I finished my food, I checked on my mother's caregiver and then made my way back up for the last surgery of the day. My feet were aching, but I had to power through it all. There wasn't time to feel the exhaustion until the day was done. Keep pushing forward was all I could do.