A doctor was working at a hospital, a hospital where the patients were tagged with coloured bands. Green: alive. Red: deceased.
One night, the doctor was instructed to get a few supplies from the basement of the hospital, and so he headed to the lift. The lift doors opened and there was a patient inside, minding her own business. Patients were allowed to roam around the hospital to stretch, especially those who have stayed long. The rule was to be back in their rooms before ten.
The doctor smiled at the patient before pressing the number for the basement. He found it unusual that the woman didn’t have a button already pressed. He wondered if she was heading to the basement too.
The lift finally reached the floor where the doors opened. In the distance a man was limping towards the elevator, and in a panic the doctor slammed the elevator button to close. It finally did and the lift began to ascend back up, the doctor’s heart pounding.
“Why did you do that? He was trying to use the lift.” The woman stated, annoyed.
“Did you see his wrist?” The doctor asked, “It was red. He died last night. I would know because I did his surgery.”
The woman lifted her wrist. He saw red. She smiled. “Like this one?”
