The Sweetest Berry

Chapter Four - Donna

"What's wrong with you guys?", I ask, while drinking water to calm myself down. "Is everyone okay? Did some die?"

"Our only lead went down the drain, literally.", My supervisor, Chester, says as he gives everyone annoyed glances. "We had gotten a suspicious liquid back from the lab and funny enough, we have no idea what it was and how to acquire it. The liquid had come in a test tube through the mail yesterday, and I had kept the test tube next to the sink. But some idiot must've drained the liquid without knowing that this could've been the most important discovery of your lives.".

Chester bangs the table several times, showing just how furious he was. My coworkers throw me nervous glances. And that's how I know today's going to be a long day. After calming Chester down, and doing some unsuccessful investigating, we looked through the deaths of many patients and every single one of them seemed interesting. Murder after breakfast, alcohol poisoning, coma for 2 months then sudden death for all of them, these were the most common reasons for death on the list. I couldn't connect the dots. It's almost as if there's a connection. But it just doesn't make sense at the same time. It's all too confusing. I suddenly feel as if I'm no longer the professional young lady Chester had called me during my job interview two months ago. I tried to help everybody but it just wasn't working out.

"Maybe... We should take virus tests again.", I begin on the "forbidden topic" of our room, knowing what I'm getting myself into.

I sigh as everyone in the room starts clamoring and arguing and I feel like I created monsters. My colleague and the assistant supervisor glare daggers at me. I guess I still don't understand. Who or what is causing all this mayhem? My life isn't the same. I begin getting engrossed in my thoughts like they were an interesting book. Daydreaming is my weakness, but it's a strength in times like this. Poisoning? It makes sense, but all the reasons are different. I drag myself back into reality because I don't want to start doubting myself.

Chester stands up on a chair and yells "One, two, three, eyes on me!" like we were kindergartners. Everyone stares at him wide-eyed, expecting some kind of greatness. Chester gives me an irritated look as if it were a gift. He looks like he's waiting for a further response, something along the lines of "One, two, eyes on you!". But we both know that the room won't do it.

"First of all, everyone needs to calm down. Second, Donna, please. Not this again. Do any of you know how much this is costing the hospital to keep taking virus tests? A hundred thousand dollars per test. Yes, that's right. I just said a hundred thousand dollars. We can't keep doing it, we just need to find an alternate way.", Chester lectures.

"Donna...", Chester exasperatedly grumbles, as he rubs and massages his temples. "Donna. Donna. You are excused from this meeting. You are now starting your break. You may return at noon."

I've never been excused from a meeting. Am I really a problem? Am I slowing everyone else down? I try to shut off my brain because it's starting to underestimate me. This is a major setback. If my colleagues make a discovery without me, I can never get the fame I deserve.

"Chester. I mean, Mr. Chester. Sir. Can I please stay? I need to analyze... Stuff. I'll help. I promise.", I beg. I single tear fogs up my vision, then escapes my eye. That one tear, just one, streams down my face in an almost straight line.

"Donna, you're excused. I'd hate to say it again. If I have to say it again, you're on a leave. Temporarily or permanently."

"Chester. Please."

"Donna. Leave. You're on break. Return at noon."

I don't know why I took it this much to heart. I've never been reprimanded for a bad idea. I angrily stomp out of the room, slamming the door as hard as I can. All the nurses and front desk workers stare at me, probably hoping I leave the hospital before I cause a commotion. My brain underestimating me is a real problem. I leave the building in a rush, a rush so I can leave such a cruel environment. I have to be in a place where my brain can't work at all. My eyes widened. My brain is starting to think. Uh-oh. Anchor's Bar, the one place I get so drunk my brain can't work. No, I can't. Three people died there yesterday. But, I already started walking. It would be a shame to not go, since I'm already 2,000 steps in. Even though I do such an important job, one of my probably biggest weaknesses is getting drunk. I drink a lot. It's not an addiction, certainly not like Mom's. I only drink once a week. Fine, three times. Actually, every single day, I'm at that bar. It might be an addiction, but I only have a glass. Fine, two. Ugh, stop it already, I normally have 5 glasses, then I'm done for the day. I see a wooden building that reminds me of a shack. It's Anchor's Bar. Great. I can see the police. Did something happen today? Or are the police here from yesterday? A picture of Evangeline is plastered at the front door. I look at her mug shot in sadness, realizing I had made such good friends with her that I had never paid for my drinks. I'll probably never see her again, she's going to court soon. The swivel door sways open, and a bunch of high schoolers ditching classes leave the bar. I slip inside, regretting my decision almost instantly. I'm supposed to be at work, not drinking. Not drinking as much as usual is my mission. I sit on a cobalt-blue bar stool, which faintly reminds me of my boyfriend. I smile as wide as I possibly can as I daydream about our Sunset Beach date tomorrow. I sit, dreamily, smiling, my head resting on my hand, everyone must think I'm psycho.