"It is not necessary to accept the choices handed down to you by life as you know it." — Hunter S. Thompson
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"How do you feel?" Scarlett asked Suzie as the doctor examined her.
"Like I should have hit that bitch on the head with a rod," The girl cursed caressing the spot on her face that had a band-aid. She just prays that doesn't leave a scar else she'd murder that bitch.
"Trust me, I wish too, but I don't want to turn up a criminal because of someone that doesn't deserve half my attention," Scarlett told her, pacing up and down the limited space. The ward was demarcated with a curtain so each bed had some privacy.
"How's she, doctor?" Scarlett asked the doctor who withdrew the torchlight from Suzie's eyes and put it in the pocket of his lab coat bearing his name.
"Luckily, she didn't suffer any concussion,"
She breathed a sigh of relief.
