Name: Helen Martin<br/>Age: 38<br/>Appearence: A rather thin woman with long, dark hair and dark eyes, with a fair skin tone. She's an attractive woman with flattering, soft features. She dresses very well as one would expect a trendy soccor mom. She barely stands at 5'6" wearing heeled boots and her weight matches her thin frame. She wears a light amount of make-up which if one looks closely can see where she has tried to hide the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep.<br/><br/>Helen was always a woman of high academic standing, moved up several grades in public school and attending community college which led to pursue medical school to become a surgeon. After school she joined the local hospital as an intern, that is until oppertunety arose. During a routine walk around with one of the residents she successfully corrected a mistake he was about to perform on a head trauma patient. A few months later she became a working member of staff and began working her way up quickly, just as she always had. She also, unlike most in her field, has learned how to talk to her patients like a human being and with care. She has a very noticeble and attractive charisma about her and an obvious tender heart, yet remains ever professional.<br/>Besides her career, which rests high in her mind of achievements, the most important things in her world are two people. While on call she met a young dark haired man who was brought in for a broken leg during a biking accident. After tending to him she was so taken with him she used her entire lunch hour just to sit with him until his ride came. He sent her flowers every week until she finally agreed to go on a date with him when his leg healed. They were married two years later and brought a son into their world a year after that.<br/>It was after their son's eighth birthday when the accident happened, father and son were headed to the museum for the prehistoric desplay when they were hit by another driver. The hit came on the driver side, unfortunetly killing her husband instantly. Her son was rushed to the hospital with a broken arm and head trauma, the other driver admitted to be on his phone while driving. Hospital policy forbid her to operate on her own son despite her pleading. The end result was her son slipping in a coma, an event she insists she could have prevented. A year has past and still she lets her son rest in his own private room in the hospital, refusing to give up hope he will fight his way through. Her rational mind has yet to move on in life so she hides it with anti-depressants and sleeping pills. Buring herself in long shifts at the hospital so she doesn't have to go home to their lonely apartment.<br/>Everytime she looks in the mirror she can't even see herself anymore, guilt and anger and made a home in her soul. Guilt for letting her husband take their son alone, that instead of being with them she took a call to come into work. She never could bring herself to tell his parents that. She has always felt she should have been there, whether the outcome would change or not. The only thing keeping her from slipping into a tragic situation is the hope of her son's awakening. No one seems to know what often twisted thoughts of self-destruction plague her mind, thanks to her medication it helps put on a convincing mask.<br/>All she wants now is to find some kind of closure, a truth to everything that has happened. Why was she given all these wonderful things to love just to have them ripped away from her? All she has is work now, life outside that has become a dark void. Friends have disappeared due only to her lack of keeping ties, the same as well with family.<br/>She doesn't believe in magic or the supernatural but she does believe her answers are not the ones prescribed to her in bottles or discussed between a shrink.