Good Doctor

Chapter 1

Retirement

  Silence can be deafening. You learn this by sitting and reading quietly on your sofa every day, from 3 to whenever the sun decided to set. The only reason you do so it because you've been waiting for something in the mail, so the extra time seems never-ending. It doesn't bother you, though. You get to spend it within the serenity of your own home, reading a book that interests you. Most people wouldn't choose an anatomy textbook, but the fluffy romance novels at the book store never perked your interest.

Your fascination has always been held by anatomy. As a child, you would label the body parts on your dolls instead of throwing nonsensical tea parties for them. Despite the heavy bullying this elicited, it did not stop you from becoming a college graduate with a doctoral degree by age 20. Now, at age 35, you're a retired physician.

  "One of our best, and will be sorely missed by patients and doctors alike. Welcomed back at any time!" read a newspaper clip, cut out and tacked onto a corkboard that hung on a wall. You loved being a doctor, but you yearned for something quieter than the hustle and bustle of being in the emergency room. So, you retired. You miss your co-workers, of course, but you knew that this lifestyle was more fitting to you. The privacy was nice, and the silence was nicer.

Chapter 2

Arrival

  Eventually, the mail truck delivered to your mailbox outside. Nervously excited to see if your wait was over or if it would continue for another 24 hours, you excitedly jump out of your comfortable position to walk briskly to the door. Opening the front door welcomes in an autumnal breeze waiting to come in. But the adrenaline in your veins makes you brush past it. You slow your pace in an effort to avoid worrying the neighbours, seeing as they would call the local police at the sign of any inconvenience. Once you reach the mailbox you wait a moment, concerned about the news you may or may not receive. You let out one final sigh.

  "Here we go. Now or never, right?" you mutter to yourself. You open the mailbox and take out its content. Before you get the chance to look at it you notice one of your nosy neighbours jogging by, so you hurry inside before they notice you, wrangling you into a conversation from hell. You close the door behind you, shutting the autumn weather out in favour of your warm home. You walk over to the table while filing through your mail.

 "Junk.. junk... bills.. ugh," you say as you toss them onto the table one by one. "Process of elimination, I guess. More junk, mail for the neighbour... YES! Here it is!" As you drop the other pieces on the floor you hold up your long-awaited parcel in victory.

  "Finally, DOHR headquarters are in Asia so of course it would take a while, but this is ridiculous," you say as you viciously rip it open. DOHR stood for 'Department of Human Remains', and you sent them some valuable resources. A lot of them.

Chapter 3

The Letter

 "Dear sir/madam

We are very impressed with what you've sent us. After we sorted through the materials, we've come to the conclusion that they are acceptable and meet our corporate standards," you skim over the rest of the letter, they were mostly filled with unimportant information anyways. "Usually not this much is sent all at once, so you can understand why we've taken our time getting back to you,"

  "Yeah, yeah, get to it already," you say to yourself and the letter. You continue reading and searching through the letters jumbled into words that you could only partially understand thanks to the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

  "After deliberating-" you scan to another word. "Strong consideration-" you dart to another. "We only find it fit to pay you-" you dart to another before realizing your mistake and backing up. "We only find it fit to pay you $50,000,000 for your contribution. What you've sent us is the equivalent to almost two full human bodies, however... considering the condition they were sent in, only some of the organs and other goods could be salvaged,"

  "D-Did I read that right? 50 million? I haven't seen that much money in one place before, let alone had it in my possession..." you stutter out to yourself, in disbelief and amazement.

  "It has also been brought to our attention that you're a well-respected doctor, so we're willing to discuss an increase in compensation in turn for social silence. Failure to follow this instruction will result in a very serious lawsuit with a very serious lawyer, so please do not think that you can avoid a mess by outing us to the government. Call or text us at-" you drop the letter before reading the number. You knew that the number of remains you sent would result in a hefty sum, but nothing could have prepared you for this quantity. You sit back on your sofa that you wasted time on, waiting for this exact moment. Now, your house in a tidy suburban neighbourhood seems smaller than ever, like it's somehow not letting you catch your breath properly.

Chapter 4

Afterwards

  Once you catch up to all of your spinning thoughts, you stand up and collect the letter off of the floor. Though you caught your breath you still feel dizzy, and sick. You could see the headline now, "Retired doctor uses black-market website to make millions; now has a lawsuit on hands". If you outed DOHR to the media they would sue you, and most importantly, win. On the other hand, if you kept to yourself surely someone would question how you got 50 million dollars out of seemingly nowhere. And in some cases donating to charity won't save you as well as it will in others. After deliberation, you decide what you're going to do with it. You buy yourself one of the best lawyers available, and you sue the Department of Human Remains for all they're worth.

Chapter 5

The Lawsuit

  The case against the DOHR has been going on for months, and it's been going in circles. Placing the blame back and forth, he said she said and whatnot. You're the first to even attempt touching them because you're the first person that they haven't been successful in scaring off. Companies like these have histories of getting what they want and leaving you behind afterwards, but you weren't going to let that happen to anyone else. You're willing to take the heat for what you did, so you take responsibility for it. The last respectable thing you may ever do in the doctoral field. You would be the last customer they ever had, and somewhere, hiding behind their companies name, there was a person who knew that.