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I always wanted to be a “nurse joy”. You know, taking care of these injured pokemon, tending their wounds and most importantly just being there in general to help them out. I go to a pokemon training school. Most of my friends want to be pokemon trainers, but I just wanted to be a nurse joy.  I made it to the last year of pokemon training school, when we can decide which position we want to take up, be it a pokemon trainer, a nurse, a sailo,r etc and etc. If it wasn’t evident enough from what I've already written, I took up the nursing job. A few other female students chose that path, about roughly 30 of us in total. Sadly, my sister decided to enroll as a pokemon trainer, but that’s for another story. I was relieved I wasn’t the only one becoming a nurse. We were all smiling and excited. We were…full of “joy”, you could say.  Sitting down at our organized tables, we chatted among ourselves as we waited for the defining moment when our teacher would come in and tell us all about him or herself.  We were taken by surprise as the windows and doors were suddenly clamped with solid steel, locking us in. It made a big thud sound, and all the other students panicked. You could hear their worrisome chattering and see the scared looks on their faces. Even I was surprised at this. "What could this be?", I said to myself. The teacher made her way into the room. She was wearing a nurses outfit, but she was bruised all over- from head to toe you could see scars and marks as if she was almost beaten to death. Standing in front of the blackboard, she introduced herself. “My name is nurse Smyles!” She spelt her name up on the blackboard to avoid any confusion. The chalk made an ear-twisting sound and her handwriting was almost like a preschool student's first attempt at writing. She was bony and skinny, with long grey hair reaching down to her waist. Her face looked ancient. She smiled to us, but the wrinkles around her eyes obscured them. Turning around weakly, she placed down her stick of chalk. “So… you want to become pokemon nurses, I assume?” she said in her weak little voice as she turned back to face us. We all had the same obvious answer. "Yes ma'am.” A slight grin grew upon her old face as she held up a sheet of paper. “This test will decide your fate… if you complete the test, you will become a nurse for all of eternity. If not, you will die…” We gasped covering our mouths in fear. Sweat began to come down my face. Everyone started to scream “Get me out of here!” or “ I don’t want to die!” They slammed on the walls and tried breaking down the doors or windows. “It's no use, children. That is solid steel. It is impossible to break with any object in this room. You’re trapped in here, and this sheet of paper will decide your fate. I hope you’ve been studying!” Tear streams went down our faces, as we were all scared for our lives. I tried to stay as calm and collected as possible, but on the inside I was terrified. The students, including myself, walked back to our desks and sat down anxiously. Nurse Smyles started to hand out the sheet of paper with a dull, almost lifeless, look on her face. She had an hourglass. “When the time is up, I will collect your sheets, finished or not. Do you understand?” Everybody was too scared to even let a word escape from their mouths. As she tipped over the hourglass, it had begun, and sounds of pencil tapping filled the room and rang in my ears. The sheet was divided into two sections. One was an essay about whether or not you think you are up to the task, and the second was a questionnaire, I difficult one at that. 40 minutes later, every grain of sand sat in the bottom chamber of the hourglass. Nurse Smyles said, “Time is up kiddies!” in a voice that made me shiver. One girl burst out in tears, screaming "I don’t want to die! I don’t want it to end like this!” We all watched her scream in fear, as we felt the same way. There was no hope in anyone anymore. “Alright, now it's time to see the results!” she chuckled demonically as she went by the students and received their papers.  Making her way up to her desk, she plotted down the test results, and we sat in fear and waited for several moments. She stood up. “I have collected the results.” There was a long, quiet pause. “If I call your name, you have failed the test… If not, you will experience something...” Her voice completely changed, as if she was possessed by the devil itself. “far worse than death.” Fear was in everyone’s eyes. She called out 10 names. All, when called, caused their owmers to die of a heart attack, or some mysterious, unknown cause. I went pale. My heart was beating out of my chest, I was so terrified. “Those of you who are still alive… follow me,” she said as she walked out of the only exit. The 20 other students stood up, legs shaking. Not a single one of us could walk properly. We threw up, multiple times, and collapsed along the walk down the long stretching hallway. Next thing I knew, I was wearing a pink uniform and the rest of the attire I had to wear as a nurse joy. Only then did I realize the truth behind nurse joy. She only says the same lines over and over every single time, the same actions, the same…everything. A pokemon trainer made his way up to me. Without even controlling myself, I said “Would you like me to heal your pokemon?”  I took his pokemon out back…They hadn’t fainted at all… They had…died. It was all a lie, I told myself. There were wild pokemon out back, and my body, moving on its own, walked outside and ripped the still beating heart out of a Pikachu. There was blood all over my hands. I reached down the trainer's Pikachu's throat and took out its lifeless heart, then I replaced it with this “new” heart, stuffing it down its throat with my own hand and replacing it… None of that should have been possible, and now... it was alive… I screamed "HELP ME, I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE!” but that wasn’t what came out of my mouth. All that was said was “Your pokemon are back to full health. Come again soon!” I then knew that I wasn’t actually a nurse joy, but my soul was trapped within it. I was crying. I wanted to die. This was torture to me, and I couldn’t handle it. Many other pokemon trainers have passed over the years, and I've thrown up, reached the peak of insanity, and even tried ripping my own eyes out, but I couldn’t die. On the outside I'm just a happy, “normal” nurse… I have somehow become adapted to this lifestyle… I still, to this day, wish I could have retraced my steps and become a pokemon trainer…

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