The Night is Young, the Days Were Dying | Birdie | Blitz

The night was long and full. There's never a shortage of sick and dying in Panem. And for every underfed and dying person, desperate to make peace with life there is a parent or lover who is full of Ire at the way life goes. It's not my fault, but I'm a dart board with a magnetic bullseye, attracting their negativity. There's usually not a lot to be done. Either their sick beyond help and the best I can do is extend their life a few days further, or they just need to go home and rest a few days, even if they can't afford it.

I'm just a nurse, and I'm constantly striving for more but I am not yet a doctor. I can't do what these patients need, want or demand.

So yes, the day was long. And I was tired. But I needed release. I needed attention and validation. So there I was, leaning against a concrete wall in the hospital alleyway waiting. Waiting for anyone who had attention to give. Someone was on there way, I had met them a few days earlier and told them where to find me.

I thought about backing out, going home and going to bed. But I need to feel wanted, even if it was just pretend.