Blow Off Sorrow, Good Bye Tomorrow

Nicole was a million miles away and no one could bring her back.

She walked outside, her black coat flapping in the wind. One particular gust of wind revealed her stained dress; the red splotches on her white dress looked almost formulaic. She generally didn't like white, but it suited the occasion. Nicole smiled as the thought about the first step she had taken today on her much anticipated path. Nicole turned her back to the clinic, reminiscing.

"How're they doing doctor?"
Dr. Evans looked at her chart skeptically.Her eyes rapidly moved from left to right, scanning the paper for clues. Her skeptic eyes rested on the hands that held Nicole's coat closed; finally they stopped in Nicole's eyes.
"This one is suffering from severe head trauma--kinda strange for a guy who fell down the stairs..." she said while glancing back Nicole's hands.
"I just found him on the floor near the bottom of the stairs. I've no idea what happened," Nicole smoothly explained, all the time looking at the paper clip in Dr. Evans' hands.
"I heard they found a bloody wrench at the top of the stairs...you'd have to be really psychotic to do something like that...wouldn't you agree?" Dr. Evans said, looking at the spot where Nicole's coat happened to open when she moved her hand to sweep her hair off her face.
She walked to the other unconscious man's bed adjacent to the first.
"What about him?" Nicole said, attempting not to break into the grin that had been threatening to reveal her achievements. All air of professionalism left Dr. Evans instantly as soon as Nicole mentioned him.

"Mr Bronehart--grotesque is the only word I can think of to... describe...surprised he's still alive. Scalped, his left arm--gone," at this she paused, eyes locked in one place on the sheet. "His left eye was found in his right hand," again she paused, a shade of green had made it's way onto the doctor's face. "...lips sewn together...I can't--." She mumbled, hand over mouth, charging to the bathroom.

What she hadn't mentioned were the words carved on his chest.
"Goodbye" she'd said aloud, as she'd walked out of the ICU of the clinic.

Standing on the curb of the clinic, her head turned to stare at the world in front of her, the long absent sun on her face. She walked to subway and waited. Lights, sounds, the train. She peeled the coat off her and placed it in the trash next to the phone booth. The long sleeves of the dress provided some warmth; besides, the sharp stabs of cold around her couldn't penetrate the heat radiating from the raging fire inside her.
"I love your dress," a woman said as she stepped onto the train.

Nicole smiled her sweet malicious smile, enjoying her newfound freedom and destiny.