I always hated hospitals. The moment I would ever think of one, I would probably faint. The doctors said I needed to stay for three more weeks just because I broke something. I have to get out as soon as possible before I have a panic attack.
I try to get out of my bed but my doctor comes and gives me a needle and makes me fall asleep.
When I wake up someone is trying to choke me to death. It's my dad. He's trying to kill me with a pillow. I try and kick him off but he's too strong. Finally I punched him in the stomach.
Since I was pretty strong he ran out of the room. I need to get out of here now.
I knew that nobody was watching so I just ran out of my room and out to the exit. I hated home, but anyplace is better than where I am now.