• Behind me I heard something, *creak* *creak* the sound followed me through the scarcely lit hallway, but I knew that if I looked back there would be nothing there, as always. I felt a chill going down my back and walked away from there as fast as I could. Once I got to the nurse station I felt a bit better, safer.

    I wasn't the only one that had been followed by "something" at some time or another. In the 3rd floor of St. Martin's hospital it is a common ocurrence. It seems to affect only the nurses, and though it's strange, other than the feeling of being followed no other manifestations ever affected our lives, that is until recently when things began to change, in a most unsettling manner.

    It began one day when I was arriving a bit late for my shift, when I got to the station I saw Rosy crying histerically, her red hair was a mess and there were large red scratches in her arms, superficial but nasty looking. Dr. Ralph Moran was talking to the head nurse, María Santos and they both looked troubled. A nearby orderly told me Rosy had a panic attack and was still feeling poorly, so they called Dr. Moran to take a look at her. Once the commotion passed a relative of Rosy's that also worked at the hospital took her home, that's the last time I saw her since she decided to quit her job.

    When I was about to go make my round Head Nurse María said she needed to speak to me privately. She looked troubled so I felt a bit nervous. I was still relatively new so feared I might have made a mistake at some time and she was going to scold me for it. María Santos was mostly a nice, caring person but also a perfectionist, which made matters rather difficult for other nurses. She was plain looking and slightly overweight, her black hair had quite some gray in it, but her face was warm and gave a motherly feel that made the patients and relatives feel at ease, but when she got mad she could be quite fearsome. Some of the nurses had created a nickname for her "Godzilla". When I'd first met her I thought it was a really dumb nickname to give to such a neat and hard working person; that is until the first time I saw her scolding someone, it was then I realized the nickname had been well applied to that angry alter ego of hers.

    It was not a scolding I got though. She told me not to dwell longer than I had to, and not to stay for long on any poorly lit area. She said she would explain to me later, and to go to her as soon I was done with my round. I said I would and went on with my job as best I could, trying hard not to think about how nervous the stoic María had looked. As if she knew of something scary that might be hidding in the shadows I was told to avoid.
    When I was coming out of Mrs. Sandoval's room a gust of cold wind hit me hard in the face. I heard a light chuckle as it passed me by. Down the hall there was no place from which such strong wind could've come from and there was no one around. Back in the room Mrs. Sandoval was sleeping quietly, the way patients in a comma do, and nothing had been disturbed. I closed the door feeling slightly weak in the knees, somehow I managed to go to the next room and so on, but couldn't get the incident out of my mind. When I was done with my rounds I remembered what María said, so I hurried back.

    When I got there, María handed me a juice box and told me "Now sit down and listen well". She said the thing we don't talk about was no longer something we can continue to pretend is not happening. Before going into a frenzy Rosy had told her about the encounter she had with it. "I haven't told anyone what I'm going to tell you, it might become difficult for them to go on with their jobs if they know about it, but I think you ought to know" María said.
    It was late in the afternoon, only a short while before her shift was over and Rosy was walking down the hall when a patient's door sudenly opened to her left. She'd thought it was the patient that did it and so she went in to see what was up with that. But the room was empty. It was after she entered the room that she remembered that the patient in it had passed away early that morning. The door then closed behind her back startling her. When she tried to open it she realized the door knob wouldn't turn at all, as if someone was holding it from the other side. It went like that for some time, and even though she screamed as loud as she could apparently no one heard her. After a while a member of the cleaning staff opened the door by chance and found Rosy passed out on the floor. When she woke up, she started screaming.

    After regaining consciousness and calming down a bit, Rosy told María about what happened to her, it had affected her so much that while retelling it she even had a panic attack. María said Rosy wasn't the type of person to make things up, she'd been working as a nurse for many years and was level headed and quietly dedicated to her duty. The main point of wanting to speak to me is that since I have a slight heart condition it might be better for me to try and transfer elsewhere rather than getting involved in a situation that might cause my condition to worsen. I told her I'd think about it.

    I really did thought a lot about it. I had only just started my work there a few months ago and had recently achieved a good understanding of the condition of most of the patients staying at that ward and I also felt that they trusted me, I liked my co-workers and felt really comfortable working there. I didn't wanted to switch to another floor, it felt like a sort of betrayal. But then I remembered about the steps and hadn't I felt that gust of wind and heard that chuckle? what if something worse happens to me? Then I would have only myself to blame, for not leaving when I could. I also had a feeling the head nurse had a few things she was keeping to herself, maybe she didn't wanted to tell me more than what she thought was necessary. I felt certain of this and thinking about it I couldn't sleep at all.
    The next day I was going to tell her I'd made my decision to transfer to another floor but surprisingly she was nowhere to be found. I asked some of my collegues but no one new why she was absent. She was rarely absent and never even took her vacation's leave. For her, to be absent without previous notice was unthinkable.

    I did my round as always, but I had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched all the time and at a couple times I heard the steps, it was dreadful. I asked the other nurses if they'd felt anything different during their rounds lately and they did "I feel like someone is glaring at me and waiting" was the general feeling.

    Waiting for what? is what I was thinking while walking through the hospital's parking lot that day. I was starting to get a slight headache when suddenly I heard someone whispering my name to my left so automatically I turned. There was no one there but I recognized the bright green Nissan that belonged to the head nurse. My bag fell from my trembling hand into the cement. Could it be? it had been María's voice that I'd heard, whispering my name.
    "María? are you there?" I asked but got no response. As I got closer I realized there was someone sitting at the driver's place. It was María, she was wearing her uniform still, and her head was slumped on top of the driving wheel, her eyes were glossy, frozen in an empty stare, a trickle of blood had dripped from her chin staining her otherwise pristine uniform. The radio was on, as I opened the door I heard part of the melody, it sounded off-key and somewhat mocking. "Maria! I've just met a girl named Maria, And suddenly that name. Will never be the same. To me. Maria! ..." Somehow I pulled her out of the vehicle and took her inside the hospital. Even though I knew it was already too late I just couldn't leave her there.

    Afterwards I just sat in the waiting room, crying. María was dead and it was that thing that had done it, I felt sure of it. Later I was told I should go home, and get some rest. My other collegues looked at me with nervous glances. They didn't say but I could tell they were wondering about what happened to María. I didn't tell them, I could hardly bear to think about it myself.