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Memoirs of a (Fallen) Doctor: Alius est Hodie

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Lithe arms turned the rifle, hazel eye peering through the scope. The rock face itself that she laid upon crumbled slightly, a few kicks and stones coming crashing down. Keeping the rifle in a deployed position, courtesy of the bi-pod underneath, Olivia withdraws the journal from her pack, setting it under her. It takes her a few, long moments of eternity to decide on her emotions and thoughts.


I suppose... Perhaps it was always going to come to this. We... No, I couldn't continue living for a better tomorrow. No. Now... Now I'm here and alive and surviving for another today. Yes, another today. Another day of living. Cowardice






God forgive me, forgive us, your children. Take my



Started with 50... Then 37... Twenty... Need more.


Strange how the rifle feels more at-home in my hands than any kind of surgical tool ever did. Even stranger how I'm actually good at it. Papa... Thank you. Gave me the tools to survive without even knowing. The resolve. The confidence. 


The entry is left unsigned and ended, shortly after. Shaky hands close it up, putting it away. And in that moment... Was she 'Whisper,' operator, killer and researcher? Or was she Olivia, doctor, friend, lover, daughter?

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