The Girl He Forgot (Book 2)

Chapter 2 - Deanna's Gate

The next day, I crawled out of bed and headed straight towards the food cupboards. I was starving and I realised that I'd forgotten to eat yesterday... 

I uncovered the Tupperware dish Aaron had gifted me last night and revealed what looked like a casserole. It smelt amazing and I devoured it in minutes only to throw half of it back up again...

Baby steps, I told myself, baby steps.

After breakfast, I went to my studio and started a new page in my sketch book. I didn't particularly want to; I didn't at all feel like drawing... I suppose it was more a reflex than anything else, a habit I'd been forced to revert back to. My hand moved mechanically across the paper, not really invested in what the tip of the pencil was doing. I didn't even have anything in mind and spent more time rubbing out than I did making lines. But what else was I going to do today? Before Carl, this was all I knew, this was my life... it wasn't at all an awful one, in fact I'd been relatively content... but now it seemed so empty and lacking.

It didn't help that Rick's words had begun to play in my head on repeat like a broken record. 'You won't give up on him completely, will you?' as if that's exactly what he thought I was doing...

But Rick was wrong... wasn't he?

I wasn't giving up on Carl... was I? 

I was giving us both what we needed; space... or was that just what I needed? I suppose I hadn't exactly given Carl a chance to tell me what he wanted... 

I sighed, my pencil trailing off the edge of the paper. Maybe I should go and ask him...

Before I knew it, I was making the trip to the infirmary again, my need to know exactly where I stood driving me there.

I stepped inside; the main living area/ hospital room was empty. I walked through to the hall and knocked on the door to Carls room.

I waited.

There was no voice on the other side this time. I knocked again but got the same reply – silence. It was as if he'd fallen back into that deep sleep-like coma or... or worse... I flung the door open and eyed the bed in the middle of the room.

It was empty.

The sheets had been tucked neatly underneath the mattress, the chair that was usually next to the bed was back against the wall and his sheriff hat no longer adorned the bed frame.

"Denise discharged him this afternoon," said a voice behind me. I hadn't even heard anyone approach, but I wasn't startled. "He's back in his own bed now, he insisted". 

I turned around to see Tara with a hot cup of something in her hands.

"Oh..." I replied, airily. 

"You should go and visit him, he'd like that" she suggested, casually taking a sip of the beverage.

"You don't know that..." I mumbled, partly to myself.

"I know he wouldn't dislike it..." her tone was a little unkind as she passed me and began climbing the stairs. I was about to question it but then I realised, I didn't mind if she had a problem with me avoiding Carl, I didn't care about what she thought of me... the only person whose opinion of me mattered was the boy that was no longer here...

I walked back to my house again, wondering why I'd left it in the first place. Maybe it wasn't possible to find out where I stood from someone who didn't know me from Adam.

I decided to stay inside and finished off the sketch I'd started this morning; there may not be much comfort behind the walls of my house anymore but there was safety and security.