The ןɐʇıdsoH

The white door at the end of the corridor was half open.

As if it were waiting for me.

Something was calling me inside.

It was familiar.

Before I realized it, I was already passing through the white door.

The black ink of my suit jacket ran down the edges of the fabric until it fell to the floor.

The fabric changed and became lighter, growing in size after all the ink had drained away.

It turned into a white coat.

My name was embroidered on it.

My eyes teared up as I looked at that clothing.

I felt nostalgia.

“It’s been so long since I wore this,” I said while running my hand over the fabric.

The green details on the walls were not present, which confirmed that this hospital could be the same one I knew.

All the doors were closed.

So I tried to open the door beside me.

It was open.

It revealed a room with two beds, but no patient. Beige curtains, a television, a bathroom. Normal for a post-surgery room.

I looked at the bed and didn’t know what it was. Maybe the way the light illuminated the sheet.

Slowly, I remembered Mr. Fernando. He was a man who needed to have his appendix removed. He was terrified. He had two daughters.

Even so, everything went well for him. His smile was enormous.

I continued to the other doors.

With each door I opened, each room I visited, I remembered each patient, each name, their history, their families.

All the time I had worked at the hospital.

The people I treated.

I walked as if I knew where everything was.

So this really was the hospital where I worked… Does my office still exist?

I found the door with the sign that had my name written on it:

Gabriel Torres M.D.

I opened the door, anxious.

I couldn’t hide my smile.

Unlike that old doctor, my desk was completely organized.

I made sure to take good care of all my things.

No papers scattered across the desk.

Everything was there.

I missed it.

My shelf with the medicine books. My tea kit.

It was as if I had gone out for lunch and never come back.

I sat in my chair. It seemed more comfortable than it really was.

Then came the sad realization.

I left all of this behind.

Even though I liked it so much.

Even though this was my dream.

I abandoned it.

I started feeling down.

Then there was the sound of a glass container falling and breaking in the corridor, followed by a familiar beep.

I went to investigate.

I found nothing.

Then I heard the sound of a stretcher rolling.

Following the direction of the sound, I found one in the middle of the corridor.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

Apparently, there was no one.

Another beep.

The floor started shaking.

The lights flickered.

An earthquake?

What was happening?

I heard another beep.

This time, I could identify that it came from the back of the corridors. Very far away.

I had a bad feeling.

I’d better go back to where I came from.

I ran quickly and ended up getting lost.

The familiarity remained, but I had no idea where I was.

The corridors seemed like labyrinths of endless rooms.

There was no way back.

The beep sounded again. This time, the interval between one beep and the next was shorter.

My mind filled with memories.

She has a small chance of surviving.

Let’s try this medication.

She’s getting worse.

Redo the tests.

It’s useless.

Gabriel, maybe it’s better to give up. If you continue, she’ll suffer too much.

There’s still hope.

I don’t want to lose her.

The beeping sounds were louder and more threatening. It was as if something was coming toward me.

Screams of pain echoed through the corridors.

The same ones from that time.

Deep down, I already knew what was there.

I didn’t want to face it.

I have to run.

The white of the hospital started filling horizontally with yellowish, orange, and red stains.

Like something infecting the walls.

A strong smell of blood filled the air.

The corridor had wind, as if it were breathing.

Air came in and went out in a broken rhythm.

I opened a door to a room where the beds were covered with sheets.

The sheet rose. Fell. Slowly.

As if something were breathing underneath it.

I entered a room only to see several hearts on ice, pulsing slowly.

I vomited.

The screams were getting louder and entering my being.

I put my hands over my ears to block them out, but the effort was useless.

I heard wheels dragging.

The stretcher from before was coming slowly down the corridor.

Alone.

The metal creaked.

Slowly.

As if someone were pushing it from the other side.

But there was no one.

And it kept coming.

Behind the stretcher, the doors of the rooms started opening by themselves.

One after another.

Click.

Click.

Click.

As if someone were opening them from inside.

There was no one.

But I felt several eyes watching me.

I felt that presence growing stronger.

I ran.

I opened door after door.

None led outside.

All of them led to identical rooms.

Same beds.

Same smell.

Until I reached the beginning of a long corridor with an emergency exit at the end.

The green lights gave me hope.

I ran as fast as I could.

Leaving the tormenting sounds behind.

I slammed hard against the door because I couldn’t stop.

I pushed the bar, and it didn’t open.

I used the force of my body to hit the door.

It didn’t even move.

“Open!” I shouted in despair.

I kept pushing the bar.

Hitting my shoulder against the door desperately.

Again.

Again.

I was hurting myself, but I had to keep trying.

“Please…” I begged as my strength slowly ran out.

I gave up.

I stood with my back against the door and looked at the long corridor I had come from. All the lights suddenly went out, leaving everything dark.

The same beep was getting stronger and stronger, coming from the darkness and getting closer.

The screams of pain came back.

That mixture of sounds was driving me crazy.

I sat on the floor near the wall in despair, closed my eyes, and covered my ears in a useless attempt to block out the sound.

“Please, make it stop!”

The sound was unbearable.

“Stop!”

My head was throbbing and hurting.

Then suddenly, the sound stopped.

And came back softer.

It was a heart monitor.

I opened my eyes slowly.

On my left side, there was a room with a door half open.

A faint light illuminated the corridor.

“Doctor…” someone called me with a weak voice.

My body trembled.

This isn’t real.

I thought and prayed to any god that it wasn’t real.

“Dr. Gabriel, are you there?” asked the trembling voice.

I swallowed hard.

I clenched my hand.

I couldn’t ignore the call.

I approached the door in silence.

I opened it slowly and saw a figure lying in a bed with white sheets.

The hair spread over the pillow.

The shape of the body.

My chest tightened.

Laura.

No.

It wasn’t her.

It took me a moment to realize that this whole time…

“Helena.”

This whole time since I entered the hospital, you weren’t Laura. You were my former patient.

A young and beautiful woman who was now thin and fragile.

“I’m not going to get better, am I?”

I held her hand and said:

“You’re going to get better. Let me run a few more tests. This time will be different.”

“It won’t. They’ll only tell you what you already know. My disease is terminal.”

“You’re not sure. You’re not a doctor.”

“And do you know?”

I looked away. The truth was, I did know. I had already seen how this story ended.

“No. But I’ll find out.”

Helena let go of my hand.

“I want to ask you for something, Dr. Gabriel.”

“No…” I started crying. “No.”

“I want you to take away my suffering.”

“No. You can’t give up.”

“I’m not giving up… I’m accepting my fate.”

“You want to die.”

“That isn’t giving up.”

“Of course it is.”

She shook her head.

“I don’t have children. I don’t have a husband. I have no one. No one will miss me. Everything will be fine. No one will miss me.”

“You have the chance to have a family, to have people who will miss you. It’s small, but you can get out of this. You will get out of this.”

“I’m going to die. You know that, and there’s no way to avoid it. Please. I didn’t choose to get sick. I didn’t choose anything in my life. Let me choose at least how I’m going to die.”

She coughed with more difficulty, staining the entire sheet with blood.

“No, Helena.”

“This time, do something different,” she asked with a trembling voice.

She pointed with her trembling right hand to a nearby aluminum table that had a syringe on it.

I looked at the table and felt my heart skip a beat.

“Please, before the pain comes back…” She breathed with difficulty. “…If you do this, I’ll give you this gift,” she whispered slowly.

Helena opened her other hand and revealed a key, also made of aluminum like the table, with the number three engraved on it.

My throat tightened.

My mouth was dry.

My hands were trembling.

I approached the aluminum table.

I picked up the syringe.

My hand trembled.

The liquid was transparent.

No name.

No label.

Helena breathed with difficulty.

The monitor beeped slowly.

I could give up.

She was weak. I could easily tear the key from her hands.

I didn’t need to inject the injection.

If I do that, she might die from the physical effort. It would be the same as killing her.

Helena smiled at me. For the first time, it seemed real.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered with a soft voice and extended the key to me with her right hand.

My heart beat harder.

Now I didn’t need to tear it from her anymore.

I only had to run.

As soon as I took the object in my hands.

She closed her eyes.

Her breathing was weaker.

She was calmer.

She trusted me.

I can’t run.

I brought the syringe closer to the catheter.

I connected it.

For the first time…

I accepted that I couldn’t save everyone.

And I pressed the syringe, pouring the liquid in.

My soul seemed to have left my body.

It was as if I were empty.

My hands felt stained with blood.

I felt disgusted with myself.

The heart monitor slowed down.

Beep… Beep…

I didn’t want to know if she was still breathing.

Beep…

I took a step back.

Then another.

I couldn’t look.

And I ran.

Before seeing the outcome.

I turned my back and ran as fast as I could from there.

I ran down the corridor to the exit door.

Until I couldn’t hear anything anymore.

I passed through the reception of the other hospital.

When I realized it…

I was outside.

In the street.

It was night and raining.

I opened my hand.

The key was still there.

Cold.

Heavy.