To Build a Home

• 4

Don't. Kill. Me.

I'm so super sorry, it's been like two weeks, but I can explain.

I'm not well, and as I said in the previous chapter, I just don't have the 'strength' to update. I don't know whats wrong with me, I just keep getting worse and worse.

Also, i've been hospitalized, had a whole heap of school duties and carnivals, I just got back from a small holiday in the City, and my brother was just rushed to hospital at 2a.m the other night - so as you can tell, I have had no time to write.

Plusssssss today (in Australia) it's Easter! 

So excuse me while I gain another 10kg... 

I'm so sorry, but thank you for sticking with me x

• 4

I woke up to sterilizing smells and the noise of beeping machines and quiet conversations.

I felt numb and sore, and as I raised my head off my shoulder, unfolded my arms and attempted to stand up, I realized I had no energy to do so, and I instantly felt that dizzy-fainting feeling you get from standing up to fast.

I sat back down on the cushion padded plastic chair and studied the room I was in.

White walls. Hallways coming off each direction. Busy people in light blue smocks. Health information sheets pinned on the walls. An office window. Approximately 30-40 chairs like the one I was on.

I was in a hospital waiting room.

But for how long, and how come?

There was only another woman in the room, she was on the phone, arguing with whoever was on the other end of the line.

There were busy nurses rushing past.

I felt a throbbing in my arms, and I stretched them out to reveal needle pricks all over my inner elbow.

I pocked at each swollen dot, and felt no pain.

What had happened?

Why was I here?

There was a hospital band around my wrist, stating that I was admitted to the hospital on the 4th.

I slouched forward and reached into the back pockets of my jeans, my hands trembling as they fumbled around.

Surprisingly, and I don't know how, but my phone was in my pocket.

I opened it to only realize that it was the 6th.

How?

Why was I here?

I tried my hardest to think of my last memory, and the first picture I saw was Freya.

Her eyes scrunched shut, and then looking up at me and blushing before I got off from falling on top of her.

No.

There was something else.

That night, when I confessed to Phil... And he went out again.

And got drunk.

And... Bingo.

He attacked me.

Maybe finally he had hurt me do badly that I was hospitalized.

Yet I have no idea why I woke in the waiting room, other than the hospital bed I would have been treated in.

Two young nurses walked into the room and began cleaning a table together.