I'm Sorry You Feel That Way, Mister Banks

Ever since I was 13 years old, I wanted to become a nurse to help kids that were sick like I was. Now that I am in nursing school, I feel so depressed. My peers are condescending, and it seems like the curriculum is all group work, a way of learning that I cannot excel at. My lab partner is so condescending that she makes me cry every week. And worst of all, I am being indoctrinated to become a robot. They're telling us how to think, what to say when to empathize, and when not to. I wrote this short story to channel my feelings. The main character may sound similar to Harold and Tyrone in the movie/book Requiem for a Dream since I've been obsessed with that lately. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy the story.

I opened my eyes. Where the f**k was I? It was dreary and dark and there seemed to be an annoying symphony of different beeps heard. To my right,I hear a dull monotonous voice say “Don’t.worry.Mister.Banks...You.are.in.a.hospital.” I turn to look. Everything of her was made of hard steel except for her stupid white nurse’s dress and hat. Her blonde hair was made of steel and cheap yellow paint. Her piercing laser blue eyes stared at me. “My.name.is.Catherine.and.I.will.be.your.nurse.for.your.stay.” I looked out the window. Man, do I feel like total s**t. I totally blacked out last night. The last thing I could remember was shooting up with that s**t down the street and it hurt like hell. It didn’t look good, it got black the past few days. I went to look at my arm when I noticed it was missing. I started screaming. MY ARM!! MY F*****G ARM!! “Mister.Banks.Calm.down.please.we.will.do.our.best.to.get.you.better..” I started to pull out my IV and other stupid wires. “No.Mister.Banks.Please.That.isn’t.good.please.stay.” I tried fighting her off with my only arm until restraints emerged from her abdomen and held my only wrist and my ankles to the bed. “That’s.better.now.Mister.Banks.take.these.pills.to.make.you.feel.better.and.calmer.” Catherine poured water in a cup on the table through her index finger and took out two giant red pills from her chest. I didn’t want to take them but she forced them down my throat. I started to cry. I felt so happy. “I.am.sorry.that.you.are.feeling.this.way.Mister.Banks.It.must.be.hard.on.you” Catherine took her cold hand and placed it on my knee. There was nothing to do but cry. I sobbed as Catherine kept her cold hand on my knee while she said meaningless nothings. Times like these I dreamt of my mother’s warmth and touch….