Who is she? Just another face lost amidst the crowd? Just another grain of sand in vast swathe of desert. Just another person who walks past you, passing a smile you don’t even care to remember the next moment. You see her everyday but never pay attention to the way she smiles at you. A pleasing yet somewhat uncanny smile. She visited you once courtesy to a bout of severe stomach pain and vomiting. You took a look at her, asked for any changes in diet and performed your routine examinations. You couldn’t help but notice her golden hair and emerald eyes. Her skin, pale and fair as the moon on a particularly dark night. Your eyes fell upon her right wrist where the vast expanse of fairness was blemished by a dark mark which looked like a burn. You chalked it off to a kitchen accident. After all she’s just another Jane Doe. You wrote her some medications and adviced her to visit again next week. She eagerly shook your hand. “It was nice meeting you, doctor”, she said giving you the brightest smile you’d ever seen.

From that day, you’ve seen her practically every day walking right past you every morning. She always glances over in your general direction with a heavenly smile. Although, you being in hurry fail to respond or even notice her most of the times. She visits you the next week. The sight of those same Midas’s hair and aphrodite’s smile greet you. Although she is a bit more pale than before. You notice the blemishes on her right arm have now grown in number. It looks like she has lost some weight. And you notice some dark circles beneath those deep emerald eyes. Eyes so deep it feels as if you’re sinking into them just by looking at them. Her voice is a bit husky now. None of this feels worthy to worry about, right? After all she’s just another Jane doe. “You should be a little more careful while cooking food”, you quip with a slight chuckle. She nods with a smile. You order some investigations for her, prescribe her some medications and creams and ask her to come by the next time her investigations are complete. “When should I expect you again?”, you ask glancing over your smartphone, checking your schedule for the next day you’re free. “Next Tuesday”, she eagerly responds. But you look at your calendar for the next tuesday and find the text “Operating room” inscribed under the date. “Will Friday do?”, you ask her. ” I’ll be gone by-”. Her voice is interrupted by the sharp ringing of your smartphone. You take a glace and hurriedly say getting up from your chair ”Okay, Friday then. Bye”. You fail to notice the faint “but” she said with a choking voice at the end.

You see her a few days later in the morning approaching you hurriedly. Only this time, her smile is gone and her golden hair have turned to a matted mess and she’s even missing some hair at a few spots. The circles around her eyes have darkened ever so slightly. But due to the morning being peculiarly busy for you and the thoughts of hundreds of patients running through your mind, you fail to notice all of this. You greet her simultaneously glancing at your phone “Hello Miss....”, you forget her name as you utter these words. “Hello mam”, you correct yourself ” How may I help you ?” you ask without raising your head. “I......I want to talk, Doctor”, she says in a deeply fatigued, almost an unintelligible voice. “I’m afraid your investigations haven’t arrived yet and I can only give you a diagnosis and proper treatment when they arrive. I’m terribly sorry but I’m really busy today so I suggest you drop by on friday. Have a good day, mam”, you respond in a polite manner and clam demeanour but nonetheless, you are in a hurry. After all she’s just another Jane Doe.

You carry on with your life and work. The next Friday arrives but she doesn’t. You seem to have forgotten her. You’re peacefully sitting in your office. Enjoying the relatively work-free day, thinking about how you’ll spend this weekend. As you’re thinking this, your eyes happen to fall upon your desk and you’re greeted by a blue file. You swear you’ve finished the patients for the day. But this single file, ominously staring right back you are giving you a sinking feeling for some reason. You slowly advance your hand towards the file, grab it with your now sweaty palm and read the particulars sticker. It belongs to her. You shuffle the pages with an uneasy feeling. The endoscopy reports indicate the presence of some injury to her throat. The next report reads “traces of alkali found in sputum”. You feel the sudden realization hit you heavy as a freight train. You feel breathless and grab a glass of water, frantically searching for the patient’s phone number. You ring her multiple times but all to no avail. You look at the address, grab the car keys and storm out of your car hoping you aren’t late. You reach her house, bringing the car to a screeching halt, and running out of it. You frenziedly knock her door but get no response. With no option left, you kick her door with all the strength you have. You’re greeted by those dark emerald endless eyes again. Those beautiful eyes which made you feel claustrophobic just by looking at them. Only now they’re bloodshot and appalling. Because this time, the body they belonged to is hanging from the ceiling.

Don’t worry. It’s just another Jane Doe...

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