Chapter 9
Louise’s P.O.V
I finally climb out of bed, walking over to the window to see if Harry might still be here. Searching the back parking lot, I find Harry’s truck, and someone standing beside it. It isn’t until the person opens the door and throws a bag inside that I realize who it is. Harry. I watch him from the window, throw his things inside, grab another shirt, and start the car again. A small shred of hope shoots through me when he doesn’t leave immediately, but it’s shattered when he begins to drive out of the parking lot. The loud exhaust of his truck rumbles as he leaves the parking lot, turning the corner and disappearing behind the side of the hospital. Appalled, I stumble backwards, the aching feeling in my chest returning. I don’t push it back this time though, I let it it flourish into whatever coherent emotion it turns into. My heart pounding, I rush to pick up my bag, shoving all of my belongings into it, tears streaming down my face. Refusing to give into his game, I wipe the tears from my face, turning the pain into anger. With my bag slung over my back, I finally grab my skateboard. Taking a second look, the memories from yesterday come flooding back, and my anger grows. Using all of my strength, I bring my skateboard over my head, and then crashing down over my knee. It falls to the floor in two pieces with a loud crack. Picking up the pieces from the floor, I rush down the hallway and throw it into the nearest trashcan. “I have got to get out of here” I mumble to myself, flaring with anger. Almost running down the hallway, I turn the corner to find the check out desk, and check myself out as quickly as possible. Thanking the receptionist, I turn on my heel and head out of the nearest exit, the cold air hitting my wet cheeks, and my mind still racing.
Harry’s P.O.V
Finally finding a small store within the hospital, I rush back up to Louise’s room, my arms filled with food. Smiling, I turn the last corner to her room. Almost yelling I shout “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find food in this place” I chuckle, finally entering her room. My heart, and the food, drops to the floor when I find her room empty. Her bags are gone, and the bed sheets are still ruffled. I rush back down the hallway, finding the checkout desk and almost screaming at the receptionist i ask “Have you seen a girl here? She’s about this tall and has brown hair” I ask frantically. “I’m going to need a name” the receptionist says, her snobby tone sparking my anger. “ Louise.” I say “Louise uhmm..” I stutter, realizing I don’t know her last name. “Oh yes” the lady behind the desk says “she just left.” she smiles up at my, fueling my anger further. “Wha..” I start, but my feet are rushing towards the front door before I can finish. I jump in my truck and screw my eyes shut, banging my hands on the steering wheel before bringing my head to lay on it. “Why do I always do this?!” I scream, bringing my head to my hands. I reach for my phone, but I stop midway, realizing that I don’t have Lou’s number, and I have no idea where she could be. Snapping my eyes open, I realize that the hospital has to have some of her information, and I start back inside to retrieve it. Why does this always happen to me? I think, reminiscing all of the mistakes I’ve made that have cost me my most precious relationships. “Damnit!” I yell, my hand meeting the brick wall of the hospital walls. Although I didn’t know Lou well, she was special somehow, and I had to know her. Not just as a person, but I had to really know her. Somehow I always mess things up, even if I don’t mean to, and now Lou is gone and I haven’t a clue where she is, or why she left. But I do know it’s at my own fault. Walking back up to the receptionists desk, I slam my hands down on her desk. Her eyes widen, and she’s begins to stutter. She covers her mouth, and her eyes shoot down to my knuckles. It’s not until I look at them that I realize that they’re bloody, due to the impact of the brick wall. Ignoring her expression, I snap my head back up, and begin to speak, my voice low. “I need Louise’s information.. please” I demand more than ask. “I’m not authori..” the lady behind the desk begins, but I cut her off. “I’m her.. brother” I say again. The receptionist looks at my hands, and then me. Her expressions goes neutral again and she straightens her back, obviously uncomfortable but trying to hide it. She clicks her mouse a couple of times, and the machine next to her begins to print a paper, etched with small black words. She takes it and hands it to me quietly, eyeing me one more time before glueing her eyes to her computer again. I take the paper and immediately find her mobile number, dialing it on my phone. I walk back to my truck, and sit in the drivers seat, waiting for her soft voice to fill my ears.
