Red Coats

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Marissa Reed's White Coat Ceremony. It's the day she was waiting for everything had to be perfect and everything was perfect... until the ceremony. (i'm still debating on whether to make this a novel :/)

Submitted: November 16, 2013

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Submitted: November 16, 2013

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 My brown tawny hair was flowing down to my white coat they just donned on me. On the blue-eyed, slightly muscular Marissa Reed. I was 21 but this had to be the peak of my life.

  At my White Coat Ceremony. After 4 years of grueling work, study, and days of wanting to give up being a pediatric surgeon. But I finally get my cot. The 4 years of even more work didn’t even matter to me at the moment.  I had my white coat and I was saying my oath.

“I will practice medicine to the highest standard of conduct by doing what is best for my patients and allowing neither greed, nor miserliness, nor thirst for great reputation affect me.

  I will cultivate—“

  Screams escaped the throats of the crowd.

No, no it’s too early for cheers. Stay quiet. Whatever… it won’t ruin this day.

“—virtues of integrity, honesty, compassion—“

  Now all my fellow white coats turned around screaming as well. I noticed the ones next were horrified. What are you doing? This is supposed to be the best days of our lives. I felt out of place so I decided to turn around too.

  Red everywhere. It was on clothes, on bodies, on faces. It was like being in the ER. It interrupted the holiness of our white.

In the center of the nicely decorated ballroom was a man holding a gun.

No you can’t do this. Not on my day.

 The sounds around me were muted. I felt myself moving towards him. To tell him he shouldn’t do this. He can’t do this. Not on my day. As I passed by the bloodied faces they had their mouths open wide, but it was like their screens were tuned out. Something grabbed me by the leg. I looked down and saw brown hair and blue eyes. Her leg was mangled and she was begging for help, I believe. But for some reason I had to pass my own mother without a second thought. I had to tell this man off.

  I was finally behind him. I tapped him on his shoulder and he turned around surprised.  You really haven’t seen me yet?  He had his gun ready now. I wasn’t good at identifying guns, but I knew this one was really good. Still, nothing was going to phase me from telling him off.

“You can’t fuc—“

  He shot me.

The force of the bullet knocked me back to the floor. I banged my head preety hard too. I looked at where he shot me. It was lodged in my bicep, getting blood all over my white coat. He was going to pay for that. I took off the jacket and tried to measure the extent of the damage. And then I realized: I don’t feel any pain.

 I didn’t even scream.

  I stared at my arm and slowly the fibres of my skin began to wrap around the bullet, leaving only fragments of dried blood. And my bloody coat. I looked up again and the man was gone.

The screaming came back now. People were in agony and pain. My mom was dying in this room somewhere. And I had just healing factored like freaking Wolverine.

  I picked up my Red Coat and ran off into my Toyota Camry.

Then I joined in with the chorus of the screams.


© Copyright 2020 Sparxs. All rights reserved.

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