Another day, another death. That’s what you get when you work in a hospital. I’ve seen it all, gunshot victims, rape victims, people on life support, older people on their death beds. It’s pathetic seeing all these sick people all the time. That’s why I take care of them.

Mrs. Abbott has been with us for a while. Not that she stays here long, but she leaves and comes back regularly. She’s considered one of our regulars, which isn’t a good thing when working in a hospital. She requested me specifically this time. Said she wanted the priority treatment she hears I give people when they’re under my care.

When I got to her room, she was laying down sleeping. There was a cup of ice on her food tray, the television was playing a news channel, and the curtains were opened to let in the sunlight. I walked over to the side of her bed and could see her chest rising and falling. Good, she’s still alive. I prefer them to be alive first.

“Mrs. Abbott, can you wake up, please?”

“Huh? Oh, hi! Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’ve been fatigued lately. Are you my nurse?”

“Yes, my name is Candice, what brings you in today?”

“I’ve felt lethargic lately, and I keep having this nasty cough. So much phlegm comes up, and then my chest hurts badly. I think I might have pneumonia.”

“I’ll be sure to test for that. For now, let’s just get you comfortable, and I’ll get everything ready. Do you want anything to eat?”

“Yes, please! I’m fine with just oatmeal. Thank you, Candice!”

No, thank you, Mrs. Abbott. Oatmeal will be the perfect meal for you today. Letting them pick what they want to eat is essential. If I decide, it’s too suspicious. Luckily, working in a hospital allows me to have access to every type of drug out there. I don’t need anything too strong, just something to help her sleep a little longer so she can wake up more refreshed.

“Here, Mrs. Abbott. Nice and hot, but not too hot.”

“Thank you so much, Candice!”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be right back to run some tests after you’ve finished your oatmeal. Enjoy.”

Now, we wait. The dosage I gave her was enough to kill her but not enough to raise suspicion. With a history of coming and going from the hospital, always complaining about being lethargic, no one will bat an eye.

I had personal access to the security cameras on a personal device I leave at the hospital. It is easier to check on my patients to make sure the drug reaches their system promptly. My favorite spot to watch was in the break room. Risky, I know, but I have a corner that I like to sit in where the security camera can’t see my laptop screen.

As I sat down and pulled up the footage, I could see Mrs. Abbott finishing her last bite of the oatmeal. Look at that smile on her face. She was so happy about the food she just had and the free treatment she’d get even though she’s not sick, just delusional. It’s people like her that drive me to do this. Why do they think they’re better than everyone else? Why are they ok with taking up time and resources for something they don’t have when others need more help?

Well, she’s about to get what she asked for. Karma has a way of finding you.

It only took a moment for the drugs to kick in. She had the remote for the television in her hand, and as soon as things were settled, the remote slowly started dropping, closer and closer to the bed. Her monitors started going off, but it takes a minute for the responders to realize it’s not a faulty wire.

She started shaking uncontrollably, seizing as a side effect. There was foam coming from her mouth that was tinted pink from the blood. Probably bit her tongue while seizing. It was beautiful to watch.

The responders came rushing in to help stabilize her. It would be too late; there was far too much in her system for saving. By the time they arrived, she had stopped moving; the foam was still falling from her mouth, her arms draped on the sides of the hospital bed. I arrived just in time for them to pronounce her dead.

Good. Who’s next?

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