We Meet Again

Chapter 30: Him

Chapter 30:

Entry 2:

Crazy.

That's what  am. I am slowly becoming crazy. I find it harder and harder to put up with all this white. I've literally just wanted to paint the whole entire room black- not that I'm goth or anything. Black is the total opposite of white...because I now hated white. 

Maybe right after I got out of this hellhole of a hospital, they'll ship me to a mental hospital to help me cope with this stuff. Yes, the crazy has gone out of control.

And the lonliness is hard to bear. Family and friends have visited, but the one person I wanted to walk through that door was a certain blonde haired boy, with eyes glimmering like the sky on a perfect day. But the realization struck me that he was indeed, lying in another one of these white rooms in this hospital, asleep...for a long time. 

I can't bear to imagine what he looked like. Maybe his hair was slowly turning back to its natural shade of brown. Maybe his face was tinted with color instead of deathly pale like I've been imagining for so long. Maybe...his eyes would open.

That was highly unlikely.

But on the brighter side of things (if that even existed) I was okay to be out of the room. Then the next day, I was free to go home. But I would be able to test out the wheelchair and I knew the first place I'd be going. 

I can barely keep my eyes open and my stomach is growling and won't stop. Serves me right for not eating this hospital food, but can you blame me? It's the nastiest thing you've ever tasted. I try to avoid it as much as I can...until the point where the nurses basically shove the food down my throat.

It's actually a lot worse than it sounds. 

But until next time...

-Cassandra Rivera 

P.S. I wonder if a mental hospital gives out better food...

I set the notebook and pen down on my lap for a second, then gently rotating my wrist because it hurt from writing. I then placed the notebook and pen down on the table beside me. 

I placed my hand on my stomach, trying to stop the growling but to no avail it did. I sighed and rubbed my eyes, then rested my head on the pillow. 

Falling under the deep spell of sleep.

When I woke up, it was nearly nine in the morning. Again the nurses came in every half hour or so to check on me. 

"You've got to eat breakfast before you can get out of this room," the nurse bribed. If I wasn't so weak, I'd lunge towards her and give her a piece of my mind. That was, unfortunately, something not under my control. I managed to say 'okay' and let her give me the food. 

Ew.

But on the bright side, I did get my wheelchair. Charley and Lily helped me sit into it comfortably. Every time I winced, they'd nearly let me go with a string of apologies for:

1. Hurting me

then

2. For nearly dropping me on the ground

"That thing looks fun," Lily commented.

"Not as fun as you think," a nurse said, "they get annoying after sitting in it for a few hours or so. I bet by tomorrow, Cassandra will start to hate that contraption."

I ignored the nurse. She was in fact the same one that bribed me into eating a rather disgusting breakfast that I shoud've just shoved down her throat.