The horizon was filled with orange and red light as the sun arose this morning. The dark sky and cold air that had conquered the night before were pushed away by the new day's light. The dew that had covered the leaves of the trees and the grass the night before glistened with the sun's shine, and slowly started to melt away. People began to emerge from their houses to do their daily chores, such as farming, opening small shops, or chasing away creatures who had come to steal parts of their sometimes makeshift homes.
Song arose from her small yet comfortable bed. She slowly opened her eyes, making sure to not open them too quickly so she wouldn't get blinded by the sunlight shining through her small window. She stepped forward and reached her arms up high, stretching and yawning quietly as she walked over to her small closet to get her usual dress on and start the day officially.
After getting her dress fully on, she tidied her hair with her fingers as a hairbrush to prepare it to tie it in her usual braid. The process was quick, as she had done this daily, and she slid her soft shoes on as she went through the door that connected her room directly to the treatment center, where there were already patients lined up waiting to be treated. Some were infected with white Jade, which had been quite common nowadays, for whatever reason.
Song sighed as she put her arms to her waist, and then turned towards a cabinet to get some ointment for the deadly disease. She opened the old wooden cabinet which held most of the ointments, and searched frantically around for the small jar, but she couldn't find it.
She quietly closed the wooden cabinet, and yelled, "Mother! Have you seen the White Jade Ointment?"
From a nearby door, an old woman with a long white dress similar to Song's emerged into the room while carrying a small roll of bandages and the white jade ointment. "Oh." Song said, and went to take the white jade jar from her mother's hands, but she drew back from Song taking it.
"You can take care of the white jade patients later," Song's mother said sternly as she reopened the jar of ointment and began applying it to a rather young looking fellow sitting on one of the patient's tables. He shivered a little as the cold ointment was applied to his bruises and scabs. "For now, go treat the burnt patient, he's still in his room."
Song looked up with a worried expression at her mother. I wonder if he's still … She thought, and then rushed over to the patient's room.
Before she entered the room, she took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. Slowly, she took her hand and put it on the ledge of the door and slowly slid it open. The door was dark, all the windows shut, and light slowly escaped from the main room into the small room she was entering. She walked forwards into the dark room and closed the door behind her, leaving her in near darkness.
"Are you doing better?" Song quietly whispered to the patient. She quivered at the little she could see of him. He was lying down, so silently and lifeless that he'd easily be mistaken as somebody who was deceased. The entire half of his body was wrapped in bandages, and the parts underneath that were visible were burn marks. His forehead was hot and sweaty from the pain he was enduring constantly, since the tragic event nearly two weeks ago took place. Seeing this, Song took the cold bowl of water from his bedside off and held it, took a cloth from the bedside and wetted the cloth slowly. The patient stayed quiet and not a sound was heard except for some faint talking from outside and the splashing of water from the bowl. Song then took the cloth out of the water and placed it on the patient's head, in hope to cool him down. He shivered at first, and then got used to the cold water.
Song smiled. "Are you feeling better, Jet?" She asked.
"A little," The patient said. "…Nurse Song."