Today again, you get ready to go to the hospital in the evening.

For the first time in forever, you decided to treat yourself to some fast food for early dinner. Your stomach was happy, your mood was great and the sunset was beautiful.

Sadly, it was time for another ten hours of terribly eerie night shift.

When you enter the hospital, the sickly familiar waft of alcohol drifts to your nose. Machines clank and wheels whir around. Orders were either hollered or chattered chaotically in hushed tones. The ER was a daily cacophony of emergencies-- and you probably didn't have much more time to stare at the view.

You go to the lockers, and swiftly switched into your nurse uniform. It would be a chilly night, so you draped on your cardigan as well. Looking yourself in the mirror one last time, you wished yourself a good luck in work.

-

1:27AM

"We're alright here. Sorry for this sudden change, but do you mind heading up to the sixth floor? The counter up there's empty because Nancy's caught up in an ongoing surgery."

Sudden shift changes weren't uncommon in this very understaffed hospital. The ER counter was prioritized most in amount of workers, but there seemed to be a surplus today. After all, Manager Mary is here today and she's working overnight.

You were very often shifted out, and you were never upset about it. After all, working coutner was a little less rushing and pressuring than the ER.

"Yes, Ma'am!" you respond quickly. Sixth Floor, was it?

Drying your hands and gathering your things, you nodded once more politely before you set off towards the lift. It was three turns away, and the last turn came after a very long hallway.

You gulped.

You've worked here for one year, and you've definitely crammed the map of this place into your brain, but you could never get used to how isolated the pure white halls made you feel. Each turn brings you away from colour and seem to bring you further and further away from civilization-- often, you find yourself wondering if actually moving forward at all, because the walls looked exactly the same.

With a ring, the elevator arrives.

You step in. You push the button to the sixth floor, then the button to close the elevator door. The door shuts gently, quietly--

and you're engulfed by silence.

There was no music, no nothing-- just the gently grinding of gears and iron and the quaky rumble of the elevator as it goes up floor by floor-- one, two, three--

and it stops.

You felt your heart skip a beat in surprise. Who else would be using the elevator at this hour?

The door slides open, and two young children stood before you. A young boy who looked to be seven and a young girl who couldn't be older than five. They had hair that was dark blue and purple respectively, and they both had a medical eye patch over one eye.

The two seemed as surprised to see you as you are to see them, but the boy chuckles and greets you. The girl ducks behind her (assumedly) older brother, nodding shyly in greeting.

Stepping aside so they could make their way in, you greet them back.

"What are you two doing out of your room?" you asked in the most older-sister sounding tone you could muster. Of course, you weren't trying to sound rude, you made sure the curiosity was in your voice.

"We were trying to find some yogurt milk." he responds easily, smiling up at you. "The vending machine on our floor ran out of it, so we decided to go up."

He presses the button for the floor right above his-- the fourth floor, and the elevator heaves upwards. It comes to a fast stop, and the door opens again.

The door opens, and in the distance of the dimly lit hallways, you spot a figure in the distance. A boy with brown half, perhaps, was running your way with his hand in the air, supposedly an excited wave.

But then you see it.

On the boy's hand, hanging at his wrist-- a red nametag.

You fingers slam on the CLOSE button. You spammed the thing, desperately, in a whole flood of panic, your eyes wide and your teeth biting down at your lips. Your heart was in a rush and you let out a large breath of relief as the door shuts before the boy could come in.

"Oho?" the boy in the elevator lets out an amused chortle.

"Miss- Miss Nurse?" the girl stutters out, surprised, "why didn't you let him in?" she asks, eyeing you fearfully and confused.

"That-That boy had a red tag on his wrist. " you choked on your words. No, your eyes might've been tricking you, but you definitely saw it. It was there, a child-- a child, running around with a red tag on his wrist.

They still seemed confused, so you elaborated.

"This hospital marks red tags on deceased patients!" you blurted out almost too irritably.

This made the girl shrink back, her brows narrowing. The boy, though, seemed interested. "Then, anyone that has a red tag on them are... ghosts?" his voice sounded please-- like he was actually excited by the fact that there were ghosts haunting this place.

I nodded slowly.

"Hey, Miss Nurse..." the girl speaks up softly. "Are all ghosts... bad?"

You wonder for a moment why this question was asked. Still you find yourself unable to answer. You gulp, but look at the child anyway. "I don't know." you admit, "And because I don't know about them, I fear them."

The boy chuckled. He chuckled strangely, along the lines of 'Kufufufu'.

What was so funny?

The door rolls open for the fifth floor.

"Then, Miss Nurse, we'll get off here." the boy pulls his sister with him as they leave.

"Wait-!" You reach out for them, but your hand seems to slip right through the girl's shoulder.

Huh?

The two were staring at you now.

"I'm worried," dismissing the strange occurrence, "Could I walk you two back to your rooms?" you offered. After all, having two young children walk around this dangerous hospital wasn't very assuring at all.

The boy chuckles again, "Kufufu," he goes, "It's alright, Miss Nurse. You're a nice person, but we're really alright." he tells you.

The girl nods in agreement. "Thank you, Miss Nurse."

They each raised their hands to wave you a goodbye, but before you could respond, the elevator door clunked to a close.

But you noticed them.

On their wrists, red bands swirled to each wave they gave.