Chapter One

The chill of the December air wraps around Selene with a type of comfort that can only be described as nostalgic. Sure, she's grown up in New York her entire life, she used to the blustering winters, but she had been curious if her time away in Boston would change that feeling.

Good news: it hadn't.

Selene's fingers come to wrap around the stainless-steel travel mug in her hands, the coffee within keeping her palms warm. It's supposed to snow today, she thinks, and I kinda hope I'm still working through the worst of it. 

The thought brings a smile to her pink cherry lips, the same one she'd spent far too long working on. Working. Her first day at the job she had wanted so desperately was finally here, and yet, it all felt so surreal. She isn't sure what parts of that is true, or the part where it's because it was 5:00 AM, but whatever. It didn't change the feeling.

Brown eyes trail to the building before her, drinking it all in for the very first time: Seraphim Valley Memorial, the best hospital within the heart of New York City. Its reputation had preceded it for years, rising to every occasion and handling every crisis. It was where you wanted to go if you were hurt, and where you wanted to work if you could.

And now, Selene echoes within herself, she did.

A brand-new resident, evident less by her appearance and more of the flashy ID card she had so meticulously strapped to her white coat, currently hidden under her winter jacket, but not for long. Whenever she stopped by the hospital last week to pick it up, she almost had to pinch herself to make sure it was real. 

SELENE WATSON - MD.

Right there, in all of its plastic glory.

Granted, she didnt love the photo much -- her bright red hair in a braid that was messy and unevenly woven, her skin so pale she's almost surprised it didn't wash out in camera flash, and a scrub top that appeared to be too big on her. It wasn't, but the photographer didn't help much in helping her maintain a professional-looking demeanor. The only part of the picture she could find any love for was her smile -- wearing the same cherry tint as today, real and genuine and so excited about the path ahead.

Same tint.

Same smile.

She's ready.

Her breath swells outward in an elated white puff. There was no more time to waste -- Seraphim Valley was right there, and so was she. Selene Watson, MD.

She feels weightless as her soft-foam sneakers walk along the decorative cobblestone that paved the way to the front entrance. The archway is home to motion activated glass doors. It feels almost, she muses, like the hospital is paving way just for her. She knows that isn't true, but she sure doesn't mind pretending.

The inside felt even more grand than she expected, swallowed up in a sterile cathedral of high ceilings and tall glass windows. A horseshoe desk sat ever poised up front, with the middle-aged receptionist settling in behind an expensive looking computer, peppering in sips of a to go coffee nearby. A sterling silver elevator glistened in the back of the hallway. White staircases with glass railings lead up, up, and away, to places and things she could only imagine.. Nurses and doctors move in several directions, motions in a bout of chaos that called Selene by name.

This is where she was meant to be.

Sure, she had been here before -- but only as a doctor to be. She hadn't worked here yet, she wasn't a part of the hustle and bustle that made the hospital hum with life. Now, she was, and it gave this place a brand new air of wonder that she was more than willing to breathe in. 

Selene, still cradling her mug, comes to approach the desk in a sort of muted reverence. The receptionist barely glances up, hands glued to keyboard, fingers flying in a multitude of directions. 

"Hi," Selene greets, offering a small wave. "I'm hoping you know where I check in. Today's my first day." The receptionist peers from over her monitor, darkened half moons under her eyes, poised behind a pair of worn eyeglass frames.

"I might," she replies, voice still waking up along with her. "Can I have your name, please?" All too eagerly, Selene undoes the buttons of her winter jacket in favor of pulling her badge forward, badge reel hissing slightly as she does. "Uh...Selene. Um -- Selene Watson."

A pause gives way for the woman to type something into her computer, and after a few seconds, she looks to Selene again. "Dr. Watson?" she asks, although Selene can tell by the cadence of her voice that its hard to believe. After all, who would peg this red haired, pale skinned, baby faced girl to be a doctor? She certainly wasn't the face you saw on any hospital billboard -- but she hoped, with time, that would change. After all, she would remind herself, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither was a good doctor.

"Department?"

Selene snaps into reality. "Huh? Sorry?"
"Your department, Dr. Watson."

Selene thinks on this, as if the mountain of student debt wasn't answer enough. "Sorry. Uh, Trauma, I think."

The receptionist gives a nod that lands somewhere between irritated and understanding, typing something else into the computer. Selene is patient, fidgeting with her badge like it is the only thing keeping her grounded. 

A smile. "It's nice to meet you, Dr. Watson. Welcome to Seraphim. I'm Rosetta, but, everyone just calls me Rose." She extends her hand, to which Selene responds in kind. The handshake is firm, warm, both their palms kissed by morning coffee they were surely eager to get back to. "Thank you," she mutters, "I'm certainly happy to be here."

Rose smiles, then looks back to her computer. "Okay, you'll be with the other new residents today. They're wanting you in the Emergency Department." She turns to grab a yellow sticky note from some part of the desk Selene didn't quite catch, scribbling with a pen she hadn't seen, either. "Your attending will be Dr. Geist, and the charge nurse is Delevigne." She slides the sticky note over the desk. "Here's the directions from here to here, and if you get lost, security is usually roaming the halls somewhere. They can point you in the right direction."

Selene gives Rose a thankful smile, giving the note a once over, before looking her way again. "Thank you," she replies, "I really appreciate this." Rose gives a knowing smile in return, already creeping her back to her coffee. "Best of luck, Dr. Watson."

The title feels heavy and earned. Dr. Watson. "Thank you, Rose. See ya later."

Selene thumbs over the note, meticulous in tracing her eyes over every direction Rose had given her in an attempt to burn it in her brain. Nerves trickle up and down her spine, and no matter how many times Selene reminded herself she had worked for this, it never took away that sinking worry. What if she screwed up? What if all that studying, all that debt, all those clinical hours and trials and tests would mean nothing in the face of actual crisis? She was under the watchful eye of a new attending, in a new hospital, with new responsibilities, and an ever-growing weight on her shoulders. 

Just breathe.

If Selene braced herself for the learning curve now, then perhaps it wouldn't feel so horrid later. At worst, it would be the kind lie that would get her through her first day anxieties. She is careful in each step she takes, up a staircase and down a long hall that almost felt never-ending, and when it finally did, she was standing face to face with the sliding glass doors that lead right into the Emergency Department. A bronze, newly cleaned plaque read as such:

SERAPHIM VALLEY MEMORIAL EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT.

Right underneath, a printed paper in two different types of fonts, was taped almost haphazardly, reading: 

USE BADGE TERMINAL FOR ACCESS. 

ENTER DEPARTMENT CODE FIRST, THEN SWIPE. 

DONT LOCK YOURSELF OUT!!!

Selene's nose crinkles in amusement, but careful to follow the directions anyway. On the opposite wall sits a clunky digital terminal, complete with pin pad and swiping mechanism. The screen attached looks new, and she finds herself wondering how much it might have cost, only to quickly shake it away. Not like it mattered. 

Clenching note and coffee in one hand, she approached the pin pad first: 00924. Okay. Easy enough. The badge comes next, free hand clutching her mug and now crumpled note, sliding it through the swipe and waiting, watching . . . 

Ding! 

SELENE WATSON - MD - TRMA - ARRIVED.

TERMINAL 2B. 

Okay, good. She's managed to clock in. The doors ahead spit out a soft, mechanical sound, and when Selene steps forward, they part and leave her standing at the threshold of her very first shift.

Clenching her mug, she takes a deep breath, letting her sight float down to her shoes. It was now or never: all the time spent had lead to this moment, and today would be the day that would change everything. 

The chaos of the Emergency Department was only a few feet away. All she had to do was take that first step.

So, she did.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

I say this is very well written and completely believable. You took this reader all the way from morning coffee and concerns about appearance to checking in, worries about performance, and then... the grand entrance. Something tells me it wasn't all fiction. Although my own past experiences pale in light of Selene's, I did relate to her feelings of being elevated to a position in life that caused both exaltation and worries. As a side note, I've spent a lot of time in hospitals and have the highest regard for those in the medical field.

[abletec]

Emunah June, again, you've done a great job w/this. You've portrayed w/amazing precision the agony and ecstacy that is a doctor's first day solely in the clinical setting. Perhaps it's personal? Reading it brought back a flood of memories of mine so many years ago.

You've also created a desire in the reader to read more in order to bring the disparate threads of the prologue and this chapter together, like Flat Daddy said.

Again, tenses, Girl. A little bit all over the road. The good news is, it's easily remedied. I know you're busy, but keep writing when you're able. Hopefully encouragement from Flat Daddy & me will make it just a little easier to come by the motivation when you'd rather do anything else.

[FlatDaddy]

Wow, what an opening, Emmy. "The Black March" -- what happened so long ago? Who are "The Families"? Who are the ones who can come only in golden picture frames, who died, we know, but for what? And why is the mayor so much on the other side of this "Black March" (which I first thought was about Race -- but is not). What the hell happened? When? We, the Impatient Readers, want to know!

You weave a dire tale that entrances us not by what you have said but by what you have purposefully left UNsaid, and how you have brought us to that black-clad table with so many dead staring up from their golden frames to peer at an uncaring mayor who wants nothing more than to get through this too brief mourning -- again. You weave a spell, too, built on beautiful lines like " ... her skin was becoming slippery off bone that felt like it was too brittle. Winkles formed, blood clotted, but yet this one thing would never change ..." I had to read this part of your story three times, not to try to understand (we cannot do that yet, you won't let us) but just to enjoy your language, your skill to enrapture me, the reader.

I saw Delvigne there, your Charge Nurse! I am anxious to see just who she is and what she does to help or hinder Dr. Watson, so nervous and excited on her first day. I know something terrible is about to happen, and blood will run.

You are still setting the scene for us, Em, and we are so anxious now for you to get on with it! But don't slow down, your pace is terrific! And damn it, tell me about that Black March! -- about Regina, about Dr. Watson, about that creepy mayor (Grrr!) -- and about Delvigne. Tell me more, Emmy, I beg you!