Chasing Melody {Book 2}✔

19

Dear Journal,

If you ever want to know who truly cares about you just get sent to the infirmary for a few days. The people who care for you will be there by your side.

Bedridden,
Melody Hunter

In the last two days Dr. Graham has changed my bandages four times. She seems like a nice lady but it appears she is a good friend of my mother. She told me that both my parents have been in this very room more times than she can remember. Also, that I was born in this very room. Not sure if I should be amazed or horrified with that one.

Chase has been here with me when he isn't out doing god knows what under the alphas order. He's been by my side every time that I wake up from my induced sleep. That is all I have been doing sleep, waking up, and then being put right back to sleep.

According to Dr. Graham when she is trying to clean out my wound or get anywhere near it I tend to get very fussy, in her terms.

Well duh! My body is not used to being in pain let alone throbbing in it. My parents, more like my mother, protected me from everything, corner of tables included, might as well have had my room bubbled wrapped the way she protected me.

Sinking further into the mattress my butt starts throbbing, its tired of being sat on for the pass forty eight hours.

"Dr. Graham," she always seems to be within earshot of me or maybe it's her super heighten hearing that allows her to hear when I have barely moved.

The door swings open as Dr. Graham waltz in with her white coat flapping behind her.

"Yes, we have two wounded," she says, to no one I can see. "No, the alphas daughter will be out very soon." I stare at her as she gracefully walks around me grabbing my clipboard with all my information from the side table.

"Hmm," she looks over the paperwork and flips through the pages. I stare at her face trying to read anything she might give away. Her composure is solid like a rock if there is something wrong she gives nothing away.

"Umm, Dr. Graham," I stare at her but her brown eyes never waver away from the paper.

"You called?" She answers but her eyes stay on the clipboard.

"I did." Still nothing, "is there something on that paper that I should be worried about?" I blurt out in annoyance.

She pushes the clipboard against her chest covering its contents from me. "What did you need sweetie?"

I need to know why you're acting so strangely!

"Is there any way that I might be able to get up and pee?" The urge to go to the bathroom hits me. That feeling when you had to go earlier but forgot and then the urge returns with a vengeance.

"Yes, you can go to the bathroom." She gives me a sweet smile, "I'll give you some privacy. Call me if you need anything."

"Sure," with that she walks out of my room. Looking down at myself I notice that I am no longer wearing my party clothes. I am wearing some light green cotton pajama bottoms and a white tee shirt.

"I didn't change myself. Who changed me?" Don't dwell on this or you're going to traumatize yourself.

Taking a deep breath I push the thought to the back of my mind and push the cover away from me. Refusing to look at my cut I feel it as I move my body trying to maneuver out of bed.

The pain is not as bad as I thought it would be. It's more of a stinging sensation than anything else. Pushing myself forward I get out of bed and into the bathroom. Once I am done I decide to brush my teeth and comb out my hair that is awfully smooth for being uncombed for two days. Once I finish up I make my way back into my room where someone is occupying the chair next to my bed.