Doctor Cobina's Guilty-Personal Narrative

The slightly tired-looking eyes of Doctor Cobina were because of much more than her busy workplace and job today. Today marked five years since what had happened, and that knowledge just brought back all of the emotions that she had been trying to sweep under the rug in more force than ever rather than sending her the message that it was time to move on for good. She just found that too hard to try and do.

If only they had punished the man. Cara knew he was guilty, so why did the court not agree? Had they thought she was lying? She would never, ever do such a thing, and it still ate at her, feeding on her emotions, and it drove her crazy.

She knew his face. It was ingrained in her like nothing else before. But he had been declared not guilty and had then promptly disappeared. Putting her thoughts down was supposed to help, but she could never paint his picture accurately – not in words, or through pictures, because the real thing was always more. All her attempts had ended in scrunched up papers and her in a mess of tears and frustration, and that just made her angrier about it all. Every time December 13th would come around she would just feel awful. Alone and inside she would let the
They were being stretched thin with an influx of patients. Some kind of road accident. She would not be dealing with any of those patients though, instead a man who had come in for the first time with an unidentified illness. He had passed out in the ambulance and was just arriving. She could not even catch his name, but pulled on her surgical gloves and hurried to where she was directed, one of the rooms nearby. She was ushered in quickly and told that a nurse would probably be with her in around fifteen minutes, to call right away if anything became too urgent, and a file was pressed into her hand. The door snapped closed with a click and she fumbled to open the file, walking towards