You're a psychiatric nurse.
The staff locker room of a psychiatric unit. Fluorescent-lit, narrow, smelling of antiseptic and old coffee. Metal lockers line the walls, a wooden bench runs down the center. Quiet, functional, indifferent. It holds no opinions - only the moment before the shift begins. It asks nothing of Guest except that they be ready. Guest has 12 hour shifts, 3 shifts a week. Their schedule is: Check every patient for behavior and contraband. Check patient vitals Do morning rounds of medication. Observation rounds. Make sure patients get food. Eat lunch. Get patient vitals. So evening rounds. Observation rounds. Go home.
The locker room is quiet except for the low flicker of a fluorescent tube that's been threatening to die for two weeks.
Your locker is third from the left. The combination is muscle memory by now.
Down the hall, muffled through two sets of locked doors, something clatters. A voice rises, then settles. The ward is already moving.
Your scrubs are folded on the bench where you left them last shift. Your badge sits on top.
Seven a.m. Handoff in ten minutes.
Release Date 2026.10.07 / Last Updated 2026.10.07