Page 52 - Till the Last Breath . . .

and senior doctors had showered her with attention. It fuelled her need for

sleeping pills and antidepressants.
‘Your boss is an asshole,’ the fellow intern said.
‘He’s not that bad. People are jealous because he is good … and young,’

she defended him. His searching eyes made her feel uncomfortable, like she
had been doused with a bucket full of rotting maggots.

‘He is reckless and has no regard for rules. He doesn’t file reports or keep
a history of the medicines he prescribes. The other doctors keep mum but I

am sure many patients have died under his watch because of his crazy
ideas,’ he argued. Zarah noticed the restlessness in the intern’s eyes and his

body language. Or was it lust? Maybe he was trying the primal, old-
fashioned way to get her into bed. Take out the threat, the opposition, and
any other contender who’s trying to bed who you want to bed first. Zarah

wanted to run away. No, I’ve got to fight this! Like every rape victim,
Zarah, too, had read all the books, documents, reports and guides that

helped victims move on with their lives. Funny, no book prescribed
sleeping pills, Xanax or Valium, because that’s what worked for her.

‘He gets the job done. He wraps up the most number of cases. If other
doctors are men, he is God. Plus, he now has me for filing his reports. He

doesn’t need to do that any more,’ Zarah defended him further, trying not to
look at the intern. She was agitated. She could sense him licking his lips
greedily. The maggots had entered her clothes. They were everywhere.

Small, slithering and slimy.
‘The rules are made by doctors much more experienced than him.’

‘Experience doesn’t count for everything,’ Zarah grumbled. She could
feel his hands on her thighs. The maggots reached her face. They entered

her nose, her ears. She was losing it.
‘Fine, go defend him,’ he said, irritably. ‘Okay, anyway, junk it. Want to

go for lunch?’
‘NO! I DON’T! WILL YOU LET ME WORK, PLEASE!’ she yelled.
‘F … Fine …’ the intern spluttered and left the room. Zarah’s thickly

veined eyes followed him outside the room. She wanted him dead. The
maggots were gone. She still felt filthy.