Tedious Deeds

Chapter 17

Friday 2012
I cut into my patient with ease. Each slice was precise. According to most magazines in New Orleans I was the best surgeon there was. What could I say, cutting into bodies came naturally to me. I could feel each and every muscle under the blade and could sense every nerve. The blood that freaked out even the bravest of surgeons didn't even make me flinch. However the best thing about being me was the little empathy I had when a patient died. I could play the part perfectly though. Replicate human emotion as if I had them. But somehow I couldn't figure out the sadness they felt. The grief. I yearned to know what it felt like to love someone so much everything inside you broke as soon as they were gone, as crazy as that sounds. But nothing happened. It hurt not to feel. So many break ups where it wasn't them it was me. So many times where I couldn't conjure up a tear at a "friends" funural. I just needed to feel that at least once. Just one time is all I ask...

Present
I couldn't turn it off. I couldn't turn off the pain. My chest hurt so badly. Why wouldn't I stop crying. I am so weak. Stop crying! I couldn't even even use a blade without slipping up and puncturing an artery. Those poor families. How could I take away someone they loved like that? Even the slightest bit of blood made me gag. What was wrong with me? My captain told me to take another week off. I couldn't contain my tears.
"You are becoming one the worst surgeons I've ever laid eyes on but you were once great so I'll give you another chance," they explained. I shook my head and left. I sulked the whole way to my car. When I got in I sat there for moments. If I went home it'd just remind me of him. I felt my phone buzz. I ignored it and instead drove to the café to avoid having to face anyone else unless they were willing to serve a cup of tea. God! Does this feeling ever go away. I felt my phone buzz again. I turned it off. On the way there it felt as if every love song related to me. By that time I'd stopped crying. I rubbed my eyes to keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks. When I arrived at the café I was sure my eyes were as red as my blade after a fun night. What if my victims families were mourning? God shut up. When I walked into the restaurant the waitress looked at me wide eyed. The rest of the café followed each pair of eyes terrified at the sight of me. Some turned away in disgust. I was confused.
"Mam do mind changing your outfit, this is a place where people eat," she hissed.
I looked down at my clothes to find myself covered in blood. I could feel heat rush to my cheeks in embarrassment. She looked at me expectantly.
"Mhm.." I mumbled, before turning around.
I walked out the restaurant. I must have forgotten to change. Instead of getting my spare clothes out the trunk I just walked home. I really just needed this feeling to go away.