“Can I get the suture kit please?”

“Sure thing.”

I glanced at the clock on the wall and realised I was in the OR for four hours already. I knew I only needed a few more minutes to finish up and stitch up the body lying on the table, so I resisted the urge to take a break and have a well-deserved glass of water. The nurse prepared the needle with a thread and gave it to me along with tissue forceps. I aligned the tissue and carefully pierced the needle through the skin, making sure the sutures won’t cause much discomfort to the boy laying on the table once he woke up. The boy visited my clinic many times before. Admittedly, his health wasn’t excellent, but he always seemed to be able to find a way to garner bits of his energy and cause some havoc.

After a few minutes, the sutures were done, and I left the nurse to take him to the recovery room. All that was left was to wait for the anaesthesia to wear off, assess his health and he will be able to go on his merry way home in a day or two. I took off my gown, cleaned up and swiftly went to the kitchen to grab that glass of water that I was dreaming about. The nurse came shortly after and informed me that the boy was now resting and it will take him less than an hour to wake up. I was incredibly satisfied with the outcome of the surgery, and it felt like a tremendous weight has been lifted off my shoulders. After seeing the first scans of the tumour I was nervous that it will be extremely hard to remove, and his previous conditions could have affected the surgery. Needless to say, I was incredibly happy I was able to remove it successfully. I smiled to myself while walking down the white corridor leading to the waiting room.

As I pushed open the heavy double doors, I recognized a lady sitting on the chair with her eyebrows pulled up at the inner corners. She was rubbing her palms together in a comforting manner and her feet were restless, constantly bouncing on the ground. As soon as she saw me, she stood up from her chair and patiently waited until I took the few last steps towards her.

“How is he? Is he going to be okay? Did everything go well?” she started firing questions at me with a trembling voice.

I could see that with every question her voice started to crack as if waiting for her eyes to fill up with tears of sorrow and loss. I smiled gently at her and placed my hands on her shoulders, leading her back to her chair to sit down.

“Spikey will be fine.” I said while taking her hand into mine “The surgery went better than I could have ever expected. He is the strongest Jack Russell that I have ever seen in my career.”

The lady’s shoulders instantly relaxed and her eyes finally filled up with those suppressed tears from hours before. Only this time I was overjoyed to see these were tears of relief and happiness.

“Oh my dear, thank you so much; I don’t know what to say other than thank you. I thought I was going to lose him today.” she said while still squeezing my hand, tears dripping down her cheeks and a beaming smile on her lips.

This was the most glorious part of my job that washed down all the stress and pain from the other, more unfortunate events, that usually took place in my clinic. It was moments like this that kept me going further in this career. I spent a few more minutes explaining to her that we still need to wait for him to wake up, but that I was confident he will be making full recovery.

After our conversation, I went back to my office to change my clothes. It was already seven in the evening and I wanted to go back home to get some rest. The last few days were strenuous for me. I couldn’t get a full night’s sleep in a while now as those uncomfortable feelings kept creeping up on me once again. I thought I was doing better during the last few months but nowadays, every little thing seemed to trigger my thoughts. In the mornings, putting on my belt sent me spiralling into my memories, in the afternoon, eating a hot meal with iced coffee sent tingles of excitement down my spine, and in the evening, while lighting up the candles in my room, a terrified and disgusted voice kept shouting into my ears. Stressful days intensified these reactions, and this week has been particularly exhausting. I knew that if I went home at this point, I would let myself go and disappoint myself once again. Hence, after a very short contemplation, I decided not to do that.

I went to the storage room and took the box of medical supplies that came through the post in the morning and packed them into my bag. Once I had everything in the bags, I went into my office to pick up the rest of my stuff.

“Dr Tirich are you finished for today?” my nurse Sana called me from behind the glass partition that separated my office from the staff room.

“Yes, I will be off for two days, so I need to gather my things.” I said while making my way to the staff room and trying to find my car keys in my pockets. “I already called Dr Dalvir and let her know she needs to come in a bit earlier to prepare for the morning’s surgery, so don’t worry about it.”

Sana smiled at me while nibbling on her dinner.

“Well, I hope you have a proper rest. God knows you were overworked these days. I hope after some rest you will finally remember to bring us some of those fancy biscuits from that bakery.” she chuckled while standing. “You have spoiled us too much with them, now we all are waiting for them in the mornings.”

Sana went along with me to the exit and opened the doors as at this point, I didn’t have any free hands to use.

“I promise I will bring some once I come back.” I laughed as I made my way outside. “Don’t stay for too long, leave some work for the night nurses as well.”

“I will certainly make sure to do that.” Sana laughed. “I will see you in a couple of days then, take care.”

“You too take care, see you later.” I gave her a wave while loading all my bags into my car.

I heard the doors close, and the silence downed on me. The evening was still bright and warm, with just a few lone clouds in the sky. Even though days and evenings were relatively warm during this time of the year, the nights could still get a bit chilly with the winds being quite aggressive, so before getting into my car I checked if there were some leftover blankets from the last time. Once everything was done, I got into the car and drove off.

The drive to my usual parking spot was just over 20 minutes away, not nearly enough to admire the evening scenery of the city in front of me. As much as I wanted to drive a few blocks around before stopping, I didn’t want to waste any more time. I had a lot of stuff that I promised to bring to them.

After a few turns, I found a parking spot in a short and narrow alley. Normally I would have parked on the main street, but there were no spaces available today. Most likely because it was Friday and crowds of people were coming to the town to have some fun. I quickly got out of the car, picked up the bags and made my way through the main street into the narrow alleys that it led to. It didn’t take very long to see a familiar face sitting down on some steps outside of an old building.

“Hey Kai, I thought you wouldn’t be coming to see us anymore, we missed you this week.” he shouted across the street while giving me a wave.

I waved back and made my way across the street towards him. Some unfamiliar faces were sitting next to him. I wasn’t sure if I haven’t met them before or just couldn’t remember them.

“I know, don’t even talk about it, I had a long week and a terrible evening yesterday in the clinic.” I sighed as I put my bags on the ground.

“Did you? What happened?” Cato asked while taking some bags off my shoulders and placing them on the ground.

“I had an emergency incident come in at around five in the evening and I had to do a surgery. The surgery took just around four hours, and I still couldn’t manage to save the poor dog. Then of course I had to explain everything to the owners and after I got back home, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Barely managed to get any sleep at all before I had to wake up and go back to work.” I told Cato as we were separating the items into smaller bags for him to take with him.

“That must have been tough.” Cato put his hand on my shoulder. “If you have some free time tomorrow you can come around and we can take a walk, maybe it will clear your head a bit.”

“I will come around sometime in the evening then.” I nodded while giving him a slight smile.

I have known Cato for nearly 3 years now. He was living on the streets for nearly a decade at this point. I didn’t know exactly how old he was, but he looked well over fifty. When I first met him, Cato was in fact the one who helped me. I was out in a bad drunken state after another breakup and got to the point where I couldn’t call a taxi for myself. Cato stumbled across me laying down on a bench in a park, helped me get up, used my phone to call me a taxi and even managed to get my address from the drunken me to pass to the driver. The next morning, I vaguely recalled someone helping me but couldn’t remember who it was. A few days after, I was passing through the same park and a homeless man approached me, asking me how I was doing and if I got home safe that night. I realised it was him who helped me out. After that interaction, I started visiting him in the town and slowly got to know him.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Cato was a fascinating man with even more interesting stories to tell. I couldn’t count how many times I have offered him to help and find accommodation, some sort of a job or get him into rehab, but he always refused. Cato said that if it wasn’t him, who else would look after those even poorer and unhealthier in his town? And indeed, he was looking out for them. While still sporadically using drugs and alcohol, he was of a sound mind. He would support those who couldn’t help or take care of themselves in the streets. He would bring food from shelters and food banks to homeless elderly people, share his earnings with young kids who were in very unfortunate circumstances, and bring sanitary products to women from charities. Once I discovered he was doing all of this, I offered my help. At first, it was food, clothes, and basic necessities that I could afford to buy myself. When I opened my clinic and got access to buy cheaper medical supplies I made sure to regularly give them items for first aid, sanitary products, clean syringes, basic medication and plenty of other things they could use.

When I was less tied up in the clinic, I used to visit the people around the area together with Cato, thus most of the homeless people in the area either knew me or at least heard of me. Nowadays, I rarely got the time to walk around with Cato, so I usually left the items with him. I still tried to go out at least once or twice a month with him as I enjoyed his company, but with the amount of work I was taking on recently, it was becoming increasingly challenging to do so. I trusted that Cato would give those items to the people who needed them the most. I knew he did, as every time I passed a person who recognised me on the streets, they would always thank me, saying that Cato passed the items I gave him. Seeing that I was able to help these people, even in a small way, made me feel like a better person. And that, selfishly, was the thing that I needed most at the moment to go on with my life.

After we had finished separating everything into smaller bags, I helped Cato load everything into his trolley. He said he was going to try and give out most of the stuff tonight so after saying our goodbyes he moved across the road, around the corner and into the smaller streets. I folded the empty bags into my backpack and made my way towards the car.

As I was driving through the city, I couldn’t help but reminisce about the times, five or six years ago, when I was in my very early twenties. As soon as university lectures would finish, my friends and I would go to any and every bar or club that was open. Sometimes we would be impatient and if we had a free class, we would go for drinks then. Then we would come back a bit tipsy to the next lecture. And once the weekends came, we went to clubs to meet new people that we would bring home with us later in the night.

These memories always brought a smile to my face. I must admit, I had the most wonderful and supportive friends one could ever expect. They always accepted me for whom I was and never judged me for some of the questionable decisions in my life. Nowadays, we still text or call each other once a month, sometimes once every few months. Most of them have built families and had children, and I could not help but chuckle every time I saw my friends as moms and dads; it was quite bizarre seeing them in such a role knowing how they were just a few years back. But I was overjoyed for them, that they were able to find the right person, and that they had their little ones to always keep them busy and on their feet.

I sometimes felt jealous of the people around me. Looking at their happy families, as much joy as that brought me, something in the back of my head constantly reminded me why I couldn’t ever have what they have. That something kept me awake at night sometimes, evoking old memories of shame, embarrassment, disgust, and hate. And nowadays, that same something felt like a long veil hanging on my shoulders, for which to go around my neck and suffocate me all it took was a slight gust of wind. Ironically, behind the windscreen of my car, a warm yellow tint coloured the sky and the weather was completely still. But inside of the car, it felt like an all-destructive tornado was threatening to unleash its’ power.

As I pulled up into my driveway the exhaustion from the last few weeks suddenly downed on me. My feet became heavy, and I could barely lift them out of the car. Entering the key to the lock seemed like the most complicated and physically demanding task. Sluggishly, I made my way towards the kitchen where my hands instinctively landed on a leftover bottle of cheap wine. I took the nearest standing mug from the table and poured whatever was left in there. Pushing myself forward I made my way through a dimly lit corridor into a dark living room. The lightbulb needed to be replaced for at least two weeks now, but I kept forgetting to buy a new one. I grabbed a lighter that was laying on the floor and tried to light a candle on the coffee table. I tried a few times, but the light wouldn’t come on. I shook it a little, tapping it against my leg, and after one more try the light came on. My gaze focused on the yellow light for a few seconds when the burning sensation reached my fingertips making me gasp and drop the lighter on the floor.

“I was okay with small things at first, but now trying to burn me with a fucking candle? You really are insane, get away from me you piece of shit!”

I shook my head a little and swallowed the remaining wine in the mug to get rid of those thoughts. The silence was annoyingly ringing in my ears making my head dizzy.

The darkness of the room started to engulf me and I felt like being suffocated. Clutching the mug in my hand I made my way back through the corridor to the kitchen where I placed the mug down on the counter. I rested my palms on the side of the countertop and hung my head down. My eyes stared down aimlessly to the ground, where once, almost in the exact position, a man’s feet stood right in front of me while I was bending him over the counter. I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt spikes of heat striking my whole body. The heat quickly turned into a warm sensation that travelled down my spine and abdomen. I opened my eyes and bent down to the cabinet below the counter, from which I took a new bottle of wine. The bottle was opened in a matter of seconds, and I filled the mug almost to the rim. I took a few big gulps, almost downing the entire thing at once, hoping that if I get intoxicated enough, I will just fall asleep and won’t have to think about anything anymore.

This was why I hated to come back home without any work. My mind always seemed to wander to places that I so desperately tried to forget. I loathed myself for being this way. All of my ex-boyfriends hated me for it too. I hated the mere fact that I was so sick in the head that it was impossible for me to push aside those urges. I could always do it for a little while, but I would always slowly back into them again, which eventually would freak out anyone and everyone I have ever been with. Those urges ruined every single one of my relationships, and I despised myself for it. Because I knew I couldn’t change myself. No matter how hard I tried I have always failed miserably. I became too afraid to get involved with anyone. It frightened me to death that they are going to feel disgusted by me, or even worse, scared of me. So, I stopped seeking someone to be by my side. I knew I was not normal, a freak as many have said, and I felt sick understanding that I wasn’t able to do anything about it. My worth as a person in this world was less than that of a worm. So, to feel better about myself I tried to help those around me as much as I could. Only this gave me some hope that I could ever look at myself in the mirror and not feel repulsed by my own reflection.

Soon the mug was empty, and I couldn’t be bothered to fill it up once more, so I took the whole bottle with me as I made my way upstairs into my bedroom. The moonlight dimly lit the room up, only enough to make out the shapes of the furniture. I slumped down on my bed and took a long swig from the bottle, leaving only about a third of the wine in there. It seemed that today the wine was not as helpful as it used to be. My eyes weren’t closing from tiredness, and my mind wasn’t becoming dizzy as it usually would. A deep sigh escaped my lips as the warm sensation from before was still moving around my body, sending shivers down my spine. I felt feverish and suffocated. My fingers travelled down to find the buttons of my shirt, slowly undoing them in hopes to get some sense of relief. The absolute silence in the room made me hear my own heartbeat, which rapidly increased with every button I undid. I placed the bottle down on the floor and stood up while wriggling out of my shirt, throwing it down next to my feet. Every piece of clothing seemed to uncomfortably cling to my skin and irritated every nerve cell in my body. The heat became unbearable as I felt sweat dripping down my neck. My hands slowly travelled down to undo the belt as the clinging noise of the buckle started ringing in my ears. The view in front of me became blurry as I looked down at the belt in my hands. My hands slowly shifted into smaller and softer ones, someone else’s, that were not holding the belt but instead were bound and tied with it. They were clasping each other, almost in a begging manner. The more they struggled, the redder the skin surrounding the belt became. The corners of my lips slightly turned upwards, and I no more felt the heat spikes in my body. I felt completely swallowed in what felt like deep pits of hell.

I dropped myself back onto the bed, downing the last bits of the alcohol left in the bottle before laying down on my back. I heard myself chuckle as the vivid memory of pain and pleasure-lined screams played out in front of my eyes. My hand travelled down the now sweat-covered chest to my groin, just to feel the radiating heat through the trousers. I took a deep breath as excitement completely blurred whatever was left of my clear mind. My fingers promptly undid the button of the trousers and the brief and sharp sound of the zipper going down vibrated through my fingertips. Somehow, my hand found its way inside the underwear and slowly touched the erection that jumped up as soon as it felt the slightest graze. I looked up at the ceiling, panting, as my hand started to gradually move in a rhythmic motion. The room filled with nothing but the slight scent of sweat and the sound of my rapidly increasing breaths.

The tied hands that were gripping each other appeared in my vision once again. I closed my eyes as the view in front of me became broader, observing the figure lying face down in front of me on the bed. I took the tied hands behind the person’s back and forced them upwards, making him flinch in pain. My other hand travelled up to the person’s neck and my fingers firmly wrapped around it, pushing it further down to the pillow. The muffled moans became louder with each time I thrust inside of him deeper and with more force. I heard the person's pleas, so without any warning, I pulled out and turned the body in front of me on its’ back with one harsh move. The man’s face had distinctive features; one could even say he looked intimidating. But now all I saw were dazed with pleasure, red eyes with some tears rolling from each corner down to his ears and some saliva smeared on one side of his lips. I saw what the man has been pleading for; his erection was throbbing without me even caressing him. A chuckle escaped my lips as I took his neck into my hand and positioned myself between his legs. My other arm pushed down the legs to his torso, allowing me to enter without any notice. The man screamed in pleasure and pain as more tears escaped his eyes. My hand kept pushing down on his neck, only allowing short breaths so he would not pass out. It only took a few thrusts for the man to feel the anticipated release, as cum dripped down his stomach without me even touching it.

My hand moved progressively faster with the vivid memory still in my head. Panting, my breaths became shorter and more rapid. My entire body tensed up as I arched my back, giving my erection a few last strokes as I came onto my chest.

I stayed still for a few moments, not daring to open my eyes and go to the bathroom. The reality slowly came back to me, bringing back all the memories of what followed in this relationship after a few more sexual encounters. I slowly stood up from the bed and made my way to the bathroom. As I got into the shower, I tried my best to avoid looking at the reflection of the glass doors, but I couldn’t help but catch glimpses of the man looking back at me in a disappointed and disgusted manner.

I really shouldn’t have drunk that wine.