Saturday, November 9, 2014
Dear Diary,
I'm writing again to let you know that I'm going to be okay in a few days. The doctor that attended to me said that the knife barely missed my kidney, just a few centimeters nearer and I would have been in trouble. They've been giving me pain killers to ease the pain the injury's been causing me.
I wish there were more days like these, where it was silent and comfortable but seeing these white walls, I feel as if I'm being enveloped and it's suffocating. My mom had traces of dried tears on her eyes when I first woke up to see her beside me. She hugged me, burying her head in my shoulder.
And it felt alien to me. My mother rarely hugs me, so I hugged back with what strength I had left since the pills they gave me were slowly pulling me unconscious.
The last line I vaguely remember hearing was,
"Rest, pretty baby."
YOU ARE READING
Introvert and Proud
Novela JuvenilMeet Jill, she's an introvert. All of her friends are aware of this but nobody actually know that she writes in her diary every other day, has unrequited feelings from the people who raised her, might have a little crush on her friend, has an extrov...
