I walked along the cold streets, not feeling all too great on the way to work. It was chilly and snowy, like usual, but something else in the atmosphere caused me to feel sort of depressed and haggard. Maybe it was just one of those days.
Despite my crappy mood, though, I smiled when I remembered yesterday's walk home with James. He was such a gentleman, and he was really funny in his own cute way. I was beginning to like him more and more each minute I spent with him.
He was nothing like Harry. They were quite the opposite, actually. James was humble and sweet, where Harry was cocky and rude. James was clean-cut and worked hard, and Harry probably couldn't care less. And as I liked James more and more each second, my hatred for Harry grew each second as well. It was like my fondness of James was being countered with my loathe for Harry.
At the thought of the psychopath, a pang of an anonymous feeling washed over me. Whatever it was, I didn't like it. Maybe it was guilt or hatred, I don't know. Just thinking about him gives me a headache.
I shook my head, trying to get the image of his messy curls and cherry red lips out of my mind. I wouldn't waste my time thinking about it anymore.
As I drew nearer to the bland building of Wickendale, I noticed a nice car pull up to the stone steps. Man, I wish I had a car. I'm saving up and should get one soon, though, which would ease the annoyance of having to walk in the harsh weather everyday.
The front door was opened and a well-dressed women stepped out, clothed in a button-down beige coat and nice flats. Her shoulder-length hair was an auburn color as her face made her seem like she was in her mid-thirties.
I was wondering what a woman like that was doing at a place like this as she walked up the cobblestone steps. It was then that I noticed the large camera in her hand. She was a reporter.
I don't know why, but I felt a wave of annoyance at her being here. I know she was just doing her job but most reporters were too nosy and had a superior attitude, so I felt a general dislike towards them.
I stepped in the building a few feet behind her, gratefully welcomed by the heated air of the building. I was headed toward the nurses office but lingered to engage in the scene that played out before me. The reporter was stopped by an expressionless Ms. Hellman, who seemed unhappy as usual. It seemed as if she and the unnamed reporter were in an argument of some sort, but I couldn't decipher their words over the sound of mad shouting from somewhere down the hall. And then, with an angry look and a few more words from Ms. Hellman, the reporter stormed out of the building. What the hell was that all about?
I just ignored the thought, figuring that asking Ms. Hellman wouldn't be a good idea. So I decided on just heading towards the office when I noticed a tan, curvy figure walking in my direction. "Kelsey!" I exclaimed.
"Hey Rose! Where have you been?"
"Working," I replied with a shrug.
"Well they must be keeping us busy because I haven't seen you in forever."
"A few days, but yeah," I laughed. With Kelsey being occupied with her psychologist job in the counseling wing and me being on the opposite side monitoring the patients physical health, I didn't see her at work as much as I'd like. But this week the proximity between us was greater than usual, and I had barely seen her at all.
I eyed the clock towards the back of the hall, wondering if I had time to chat. I had come early so I guess I could spare a few minutes.
"So what have you been up to in the past couple days?" I asked.