I work as a nurse at a certain hospital.

My job is very busy. Of course this is the career path I chose, but every now and then I have a few complaints.

In general you can’t predict overtime hours. People’s lives are in my hands, so if something happens I can’t go home and I won’t go home.

On my days off there are study meetings so I don’t even get the entire day to myself.

My colleague tells me, “You need to get used to it, you’ve gotta adapt,” and is always so calm and composed. They’re not just words. He’s always working longer hours than me, his smile and cheerful atmosphere never fade and he always conducts his work smoothly. I respect him a lot.

Ah, I got a little off track there.

And that’s how I spend my days, so when people ask me, “Do you really see ghosts at the hospital?” it bothers me. My hands are full with the living, I don’t have enough time to be concerned with matters like that.

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And yet there are events that will stick with me for quite some time.

Take for instance last month.

I was moving some necessities to the morgue when suddenly something grabbed my arm.

Yes, it’s the morgue so of course there’s nobody there but those who’ve already passed away. It was perhaps a moment where you might let out a cute little scream, but on that day I was particularly busy.

“I’m busy right now so I’ll deal with you later!”

I yelled out at whatever it was in a harsh tone, shook my arm free and returned to work.

I didn’t think about it again until I crawled into bed that night. I had no words to describe how I felt when I recalled it.

I said I would deal with them later and then left them hanging there. I really did something awful to whoever that was, didn’t I?