Written for broadcast. Narrator is a woman in her twenties. Distant sirens coming slowly closer. Standing in my nightgown, I look out from my third floor window onto the moon-shadowed street. I feel a sharp pinch on the skin of my ankle. My worst fears coming true. I'm a phlebotomist, filling vials of blood all day at the hospital. I don't like putting the needle into the arms of people who are afraid, especially kids, but the blood itself doesn't bother me. However, some things do freak me out: like the idea of being restrained, or having to work with the mentally ill. And there is one more fear that plagues me, my deepest terror, but I can't bear to mention it. At the hospital, patients are sometimes restrained in the ER for their own good. It's terrible to watch them pull and thrash at the leather cuffs. Perhaps I have a bit of claustrophobia, I don't know, but this horrifies me. Maybe this phobia is also the reason the insane freak me out, becaus...
Comments
Post a Comment