7:40 pm. Time of Death. 7 year old girl brought in by a relative after being hit by a passenger jeep. Informant is too distraught to give the details of the accident but from what I can surmise, while the jeep went for a U-turn, the driver did not notice that he hit the child dragging her a few kilometers before realizing what has happened. Skid marks all over the torso. Massive internal bleeding. Blood gushes out of the nose while attempting to intubate. No heart beat. Proceeded with giving 3 doses of epinephrine. Still a flat line.

This is not a story. Or a figment of my imagination.
While moonlighting in St. Vincent Hospital in Marikina yesterday, I met her.

An only child, she was suppose to go to school tomorrow after the long holiday. She just celebrated her 7th birthday 2 weeks ago.

Checked her pupils. Dilated. She must have found peace before they brought her in. Good thing she didn't feel the pain anymore. It must have been horrible. For someone so young.

It is in moments like this when I remember Vanessa. My dark cherub. My apple berry freeze.

The one I constantly text messaged when things got bad. When everything was not fine.
I remember telling her to always be careful because I see a lot of vehicular accidents. Drive safe. Be safe. Almost telling her I love her. Almost. But not quite.

No respiratory movements. Performed CPR. More blood gushes out of her nose. Suction please. Still a flat line. The father is screaming at the hospital now and yet she's not even gasping. Or fighting for her life as most children. The pain of being dragged by the jeep wasn't there anymore. She just lay there.

Vanessa didn't understand when I messaged her. Or why.
She must have thought I was another of her pathetic stalkers.

She could never understand these moments.

When I am in my most vulnerable.
When I cannot distinguish myself from my patients
When I get lost in the merry go round.

She could never understand that every time I see a person suffer.
Her face resurfaces. Haunting me and breaking me.
Making me realize how important she is to me.

Close the curtain. Let the family grieve. You have to be in control. Call the necessary people. Police officer. Funeral place. And don't forget to note the time of death.