Chapter 7

"Miss Scott, Dr Lennon wants to see you in his office," a familiar toneless voice entered my eardrums. "George will assist us there."

In the doorway behind the scrawny figure stood the broad muscular fellow, both dressed in similar get-up, their matching set of hospital scrubs and stark white trainers.

Charles had a brown clipboard, with several pages clipped to its front, in his left hand. Glancing through the pages from time to time.

George on the other hand just had the usual scowl, solely for intimidation resources, imprinted on his face. His arms firmly knitted infront of his broad chest.

Due to my rebellion tendencies, George and Charles have gotten written warnings. Me just openly behaving as such showed the management that the before mentioned aren't doing their jobs efficiently. In their opinion fear should have been installed in me, which was failed to be done.