Page 33 of Sincerely, Butterfly

It’s not an easy job to get, the number of years you have to be in school to be able to be a forensic pathologist is crazy.

Do I plan on doing everything required? Fuck, no. I’ll do my four years of college and four years of medical school, then I’m done. Fuck the residency and fellowship.

If anything, I’ll just get an apprenticeship with Dad.

Another eight years in school after just spending twelve years of my life doing it is way beyond too much for me.

I want to get away from people, not be around them for longer.

It takes a second for the fluorescent lights to flicker on, illuminating the room in a bright white glow.

The room smells of death and antiseptic. I used to wear a bit of Vicks under my nose when I was younger because it’s not the best smell in the world, but I’ve since gotten used to it.

The way this part of the morgue is set up is when you first walk out of the elevator, it’s the surgical room, where my dad does all the autopsies.

There are a few tables around the room and one under a big light overhead. As well as a sink and tool cabinets.

The room to the left is the freezer where we keep the bodies. It can hold up to eight, while some of the other morgues can hold up to forty.

To the right is the cremation room where we burn all the bodies for well, cremation.

I veer to the right, turning on the light to the room before heading over to the cremation machine.

Opening the door, I toss the shirt in before closing it.

“Now,” I sigh. “Time to clean up the best I can.”

Heading back into the main room, I go to the sink and wash my hands with hospital-grade disinfectant soap.

Once that's done, I gather everything I’m going to need to transport her stupid body over here.

“I think that's everything,” I mutter to myself, looking at all the supplies in the back of my trunk. A plastic tarp, gloves, bleach, along with some scrubbing brushes, and a light.

Getting blood out of cement isn't going to be easy. Shit, maybe I should have just left her behind a tree or something.

“No need to worry about it now.” I close the trunk and get inside the Jeep.

On the drive back to the cemetery, I listen to music, humming along. It’s not until I get back that I realize I’m still not wearing a shirt.

“Shit.” I look down at my black bra.Oh well. The sooner I deal with Scarlett, the sooner I can go home, shower, and get some much-needed sleep.

Not that it’s going to happen any time soon, seeing as it’s going to take around two hours to burn her damn body.

I mean, I could always take a nap on the couch in the reception area.

Worry about that later, Nola, focus on what you’re doing right now.

Scanning my surroundings, I check to make sure no one is watching before gathering everything. I head toward the entrance I used before and curse when I hear that the party is still going strong.

Fuck. How am I going to get in here, wrap her body up, and drag it to my Jeep without anyone seeing me?

“Might have to take the long way around,” I mutter. “Great. I hate this girl. She was nothing but an inconvenience in life, so, of course, she’s going to be one in death.”

Creeping my way to the mausoleum I left her in, I avoid the party the best I can. Thankfully, this cemetery is big, so it’s not that hard.

“Oh, good, you’re still here.” I stare down at Scarlett’s lifeless body, grateful I remembered to grab a headlamp. It’s dark as fuck in this place. My nose wrinkles as I get a better look at her than I did before. She’s in a lot worse shape than I thought.

“They really did a number on you,” I chuckle, crouching down in front of her while slipping on a pair of gloves. “Guess all that time spent on your looks was a waste. No one cares when you’re dead.” Cocking my head to the side, I reach over and drag her eyelids closed. “Also, stop looking at me. You’re freaking me out.” Then I close her mouth. “There, that's better.” I nod. “Now, let’s get you out of here,shall we, and into a place that’s a little… warmer.” I chuckle at my own joke. “Get it? Because I’m gonna throw you in an oven that's going to burn your body. Warm, fire, you know…” I stare at her. “Damn, tough crowd.”