The droning telephone echoed hollowly across those powder blue walls with white crown molding. There were pictures on the walls that were framed certificates and diplomas. Awards and small plaques from local news networks lined the walls. The floor was white tile, sterile in shine and in smell. The Clinic always smelled of scented antibacterial solution. And Emlyn paced those halls over and over, going from patients room to patients room, clipboard to clipboard. Cushioned stool to cushioned stool.
And throughout those days, she thought of a handful of things. Of Charlie, Audrey, and Marie?s blood. That cultivated woman had left something behind that left countless potentials available to tap into. But she had been lured by that luster before, and paid dearly for meddling with the unknown. She lost her mentor, her scholastic merit, and a budding reputation. But it had been many years ago, and she still was just as attracted to this possibility as she was back then. She didn?t see risk. She saw power. And answers. And a sacrifice never scared Emlyn Osiris.
But she only thought about it. She thought about it very quietly, very thoroughly. It was something she bounced back and forth. And she hadn?t even taken that vile out of its box from her laboratory.
She prided herself of that. It was only a thought. A powerful, provoking one. But something she didn?t act upon. But it was on with the unending grind of patient traffic. She had reemerged from the break room, a tall cup of coffee downed and a granola bar consumed. She wore a red jersey fabric dress, loose and comfortable. A thin black belt was around her waist, and black flats were on her feet. Another double shift was rolling along.
A young man in scrubs came to walk beside her, a new clipboard with information attached to it. The young man looked mid twenties. ?Got a woman, 49 years old. Is complaining of intense migraines and blurred vision. She?s been suffering from the condition for a few weeks. Sensitivity to light, tenderness in the temples.? Emlyn skimmed through the patient?s notes and filled out questionnaire with a quickness endowed to trained eyes that saw thousands of these papers a week.
?Why hasn?t she been referred to a neural healer? This looks pretty clean cut case of either a tumor or chronic migraines. Even a renewed visual prescription. It says here she doesn?t wear glasses. And she hasn?t seen an optometrist for a vision test within the last 5 years. Degraded vision can cause all of these things, John.?
?Yeah, yeah. That?s what we told her. But when she found out you worked here on the sign in sheet she insisted to be seen by you first. Perhaps you know her??
Emlyn?s brows furrowed. ?I don?t recall knowing anyone of that age. But if she insists, it will be an additional charge she may have to pay out of pocket if her insurance isn?t good enough.?
John nodded, ?Yes doctor.? But he had led her to the appropriate patients room, and opened the door for her.
She walked through the door, and the scrub-clad employee closed the door behind her. Emlyn went straight for a stool, bringing that wheeled seat toward the cushioned bed with paper covering.
?Good afternoon, Misses Briggs.? She smiled to finally look at the woman, who was looking away from her and out the nearby window before her gaze turned to her.
?Yes, Emlyn. Hello.? She had her hands folded neatly on her lap, nearly mirroring Emlyns. But neither women looked at one another?s hands.
?I would prefer you to call me Doctor Osiris. Doctor will suffice. Now, I am told you wanted to see me even after one of my assistants wanted to refer you directly to a specialist to speed up your diagnosis and treatment. What seems to be troubling you??
?Countless things, doctor, but you?re the one that troubles me the most.?
Emlyn finally tore her eyes from that information-stuffed clipboard to look at the woman. She frowned, and rose a single brow. ?I?m sorry, I am afraid I don?t understand.?
But.. her sentence was slow to leave her lips. Her yellow eyes looked into matching yellow ones. Exactly like her own.
?Emlyn? Do you remember me??
And throughout those days, she thought of a handful of things. Of Charlie, Audrey, and Marie?s blood. That cultivated woman had left something behind that left countless potentials available to tap into. But she had been lured by that luster before, and paid dearly for meddling with the unknown. She lost her mentor, her scholastic merit, and a budding reputation. But it had been many years ago, and she still was just as attracted to this possibility as she was back then. She didn?t see risk. She saw power. And answers. And a sacrifice never scared Emlyn Osiris.
But she only thought about it. She thought about it very quietly, very thoroughly. It was something she bounced back and forth. And she hadn?t even taken that vile out of its box from her laboratory.
She prided herself of that. It was only a thought. A powerful, provoking one. But something she didn?t act upon. But it was on with the unending grind of patient traffic. She had reemerged from the break room, a tall cup of coffee downed and a granola bar consumed. She wore a red jersey fabric dress, loose and comfortable. A thin black belt was around her waist, and black flats were on her feet. Another double shift was rolling along.
A young man in scrubs came to walk beside her, a new clipboard with information attached to it. The young man looked mid twenties. ?Got a woman, 49 years old. Is complaining of intense migraines and blurred vision. She?s been suffering from the condition for a few weeks. Sensitivity to light, tenderness in the temples.? Emlyn skimmed through the patient?s notes and filled out questionnaire with a quickness endowed to trained eyes that saw thousands of these papers a week.
?Why hasn?t she been referred to a neural healer? This looks pretty clean cut case of either a tumor or chronic migraines. Even a renewed visual prescription. It says here she doesn?t wear glasses. And she hasn?t seen an optometrist for a vision test within the last 5 years. Degraded vision can cause all of these things, John.?
?Yeah, yeah. That?s what we told her. But when she found out you worked here on the sign in sheet she insisted to be seen by you first. Perhaps you know her??
Emlyn?s brows furrowed. ?I don?t recall knowing anyone of that age. But if she insists, it will be an additional charge she may have to pay out of pocket if her insurance isn?t good enough.?
John nodded, ?Yes doctor.? But he had led her to the appropriate patients room, and opened the door for her.
She walked through the door, and the scrub-clad employee closed the door behind her. Emlyn went straight for a stool, bringing that wheeled seat toward the cushioned bed with paper covering.
?Good afternoon, Misses Briggs.? She smiled to finally look at the woman, who was looking away from her and out the nearby window before her gaze turned to her.
?Yes, Emlyn. Hello.? She had her hands folded neatly on her lap, nearly mirroring Emlyns. But neither women looked at one another?s hands.
?I would prefer you to call me Doctor Osiris. Doctor will suffice. Now, I am told you wanted to see me even after one of my assistants wanted to refer you directly to a specialist to speed up your diagnosis and treatment. What seems to be troubling you??
?Countless things, doctor, but you?re the one that troubles me the most.?
Emlyn finally tore her eyes from that information-stuffed clipboard to look at the woman. She frowned, and rose a single brow. ?I?m sorry, I am afraid I don?t understand.?
But.. her sentence was slow to leave her lips. Her yellow eyes looked into matching yellow ones. Exactly like her own.
?Emlyn? Do you remember me??