A heavy sleep… but unlike the days before, it felt almost… pleasant.
Maybe I was just too exhausted yesterday.
I was thinking about getting up, but my body hesitated more than it agreed.
Until the loud voice of the clock made the decision for me.
"Ding… ding…"
The dry sound of it sent a faint vibration through the walls.
I forced myself up.
Still tired.
My legs trembled as if they had forgotten how to carry weight.
I sat on the bed for a few moments and closed my eyes.
"I need to go somewhere I'm actually needed," I told myself.
Then I stood.
And walked toward the bathroom in the corner of my room.
A medium-sized bathroom, covered in pale blue tiles with a white floor.
A small cabinet sat beside the entrance for toiletries.
I took off my clothes.
And filled the bathtub with warm water. Slowly.
Then I sank into it.
And as soon as I did, something in my exhaustion loosened.
Released.
But the unease stayed.
Maybe skipping my medication for a few days was finally catching up to me.
Suddenly, her words came back to me.
"Do doctors even get sick?"
I answered—knowing she couldn't hear me, but my mind still refused to leave it alone.
"My coat is a shield for others… something that gives them hope for life."
"But for me… it's just a piece of fabric."
"Wounds like yours might heal… but mine might never do."
I said it with a cold smile.
Then I closed my eyes and sank deeper into the water.
Outside sounds faded away.
The only thing left was the sound of my heartbeat.
Maybe it was the coldness of the water…
Or maybe my thoughts simply didn't dare come closer anymore.
For a few seconds… I even thought about staying under.
But moments later, I pulled myself out.
And the world came rushing back.
Water dripping.
Birds outside the open window.
Life… loudly continuing without permission.
And then I realized—
Yes.
I'm still alive.
I quickly stepped out of the bathroom.
No more time.
I got dressed without thinking too much.
A black shirt, grey trousers.
I stood in front of the mirror beside my bed and fixed my hair.
And then I saw myself.
My hair—black again, dyed after leaving that city.
My height, slightly changed.
My skin, no longer as bright as before.
Everything had changed.
Everything… except my eyes.
Still tired.
Still carrying something I couldn't explain.
I put my glasses on, hiding that look from the world.
Then I grabbed my bag and left the room.
I walked through the living room while tying my shoes.
My gaze drifted across the house.
A simple place.
One floor, white-tiled floor, cream-colored walls.
Three rooms branching off the living space—one toward the kitchen, one my room, one for guests.
Small.
But not small enough to stop loneliness from growing inside it.
I looked away.
And went to the hospital.
A taxi ride.
Thirty minutes.
Then the hospital entrance.
The largest hospital in the city.
I stepped inside.
Changed in the doctors' locker room.
Put on the white coat.
And started my rounds.
Reviewing patient files.
Checking reports.
The day wasn't as busy as usual.
But it wasn't empty either.
Until something caught my eye.
Florence's condition had worsened.
The case personally assigned to me by the director.
I moved immediately.
Sent instructions to the nurse for the medication she needed.
Entered the elevator.
Too slow.
Each second felt stretched into minutes.
When I stepped out, I heard it.
A faint sound.
Something… rhythmic.
Too unclear to understand.
I ran.
Closer.
Clearer.
Until I reached her door.
I pushed it open without thinking.
And for a moment—
My heartbeat drowned everything else.
"Florence…"
I shouted.
Then I froze.
She had turned the bedsheet into a skirt.
A hospital robe into a cape.
Her hair tied messily into two uneven tails.
And she was dancing.
Right in front of the television.
When she saw me, her face turned bright red.
She quickly looked away.
And then—
Hit me in the face with a pillow.
"You're not allowed to enter my room without permission!"
She said, half angry, half embarrassed.
My knees gave up before I even realized it.
I fell to the floor.
And for the first time that day…
I exhaled.
Relieved.
Because she was okay.
Because she was alive.
And because, somehow…
That was enough.