The clinic was quiet at this time, almost unnervingly.She wiped her hands on her apron, glancing at the neat rows of cages.She checked on the animals- a small black kitten with green and sharp eyes she had found abandoned on the streets who needed a home, a small puppy with broken leg which she healed, a curious parrot-making sure each was comfortable before leaving.
She ran a hand through her hairs, feeling the ache in her shoulders. Another long day. Another pile of paperwork. Another batch of scared, injured animals soothed back to health. Sometimes it felt like she was just putting out fires, patching up lives that had nothing to do with hers. But this was her life, and she liked it that way. Mostly.
She walked slowly around the clinic, switching off lights one by one.she double-checked the locks and drew the blinds of the windows. Finally, she flipped the last light switch, and the clinic fell into darkness. Only the dim glow of the streetlamp outside lit the hallway. She locked the front door behind her and stepped into the cool night air, her coat wrapping her like a shield.
The streets were empty, almost too empty.She walked back to her apartment which was just two blocks away from her clinic. She prefer walking back then driving. Her neighbourhood was quite safe. Her mind wandered-her life, her choices, the family she hadn't spoken to in months. The weight of solitude pressed lightly, but she liked it that way. Independence was freedom.She loved her independence, but sometimes it felt fragile, like a thin glass she had to carry carefully.
A sound came from the distant made her pause-a low, ragged groan. Her eyes scanned the street. Empty. Another groan, sharper this time, came from a corner near a flickering lamppost.Her breath caught. Something-or someone-was there. Slowly, cautiously, she moved closer. Her mind raced: Who would be out here at this hour? Injured? Alone?
There, slumped against the curb, she saw him. Blood soaked his clothes. His body trembled, each breath shallow and uneven. The dim light barely lit half his face, but she could see the strain in his features, the sharp edge of pain in his movements.
She hesitated for just a moment. Her instincts screamed at her-he could be dangerous. Most people would have called for help, walked away, protected themselves. She knew it. She almost did nothing.Then she bent down to access him.
"Hey... are you okay?" she called asked him softly.
She hesitated. Her hands itched with instinctive caution. Most people would have run. Called an ambulance. Alerted the authorities.
But she wasn't most people. She couldn't leave him here bleeding out cold.
"I can't do that," she said firmly. "I can't just leave you here."
"Should I call someone for help . Do you want me to call anyone." She asked him touching his face.
Go..." he rasped, voice hoarse. "Don't... call anyone. Just leave me." He saw her shaking her head almost worried for him first time anyone was worried for his life. But she didn't want that.
She was almost in panick mode accessing his injuries talking to him in soothing words and gentle touchs.
"Hey listen.."again he heard that angelic voice thinking if he was already dead and in hell but how can a angel be in hell was he in heaven by mistake.
"Hey I'm a doctor I can help you. I'm taking you with me in my clinic. Just hold on don't die on me."
He tried to protest, weak words, gritted teeth, but he didn't resist as she helped him to his feet.
She lifted him carefully, put his arm around her shoulder supporting his body. She could feel his hard body against her and his heavy frame didn't help at all. Every step toward the clinic sent a jolt of fear and adrenaline through her, but she pushed it down. I can't leave him here. I won't.
By the time she reached the clinic, her coat was damp with sweat and his blood, her hands shaking, but her resolve was unshakable. She opened the door with one hand. She set him gently on the table, and for the first time, truly saw the depth of the injuries he'd been hiding under her black clothes.
And even before she started cleaning the wounds, a thought struck her like ice: Saving him... might be the most dangerous mistake of my life.
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