I hate this feeling. I feel like someone is watching me, not that 'I'm on the TV looking at the camera so I can see you' it's that feeling that makes you look behind you suddenly, just to check. I've been feeling like this for days and Lily should soon be coming. Soon. Maybe. I got my nurse to call her and she said she would try her best - the hospital telephone lines have been down. These past few days have been weird, very weird, but yet again I guess I am getting back normal routines of when I drift into my slumber so it could just be me thinking it's weird.
I guess I'll never know.
I've been feeling odd and edgy ever since the phone lines went dead. I'm not sure at all why, but I just feel that way. It's frustrating having feelings and not knowing what they mean. Yet again it would have been even more stressful for the nursing staff - having to do everything manually, by that I mean having to have access to an email twenty-four/seven like it was the essential communication unit while they were down. The nurse was telling me all about this information yesterday. Once again I don't know why she was telling me, but I have thought of two reasons why: she was feeling talkative or she was told to so I wouldn't feel as 'on my own.'
Corey hasn't shown for the past few days, I haven't seen him since I started writing that diary. He could have gotten his hands on it and read it while I was out of it, could have creeped him out a little and might have pissed him off a bit.
'But..' I said to myself as I reached into the middle drawer of my beside table, the touch of the chilled wood prickled my scarred hand, covered in blue and purple scars and brown-black bruises that seemed to finally be calming down a bit. I grabbed the light blue notebook, opening it to my previous entries.
I slightly giggled to myself as I read over them:
"...this morning I was interrupted from a gorgeous dream...got to eat a solid block of chocolate... unbelievable... a guy kissed me..."
"...made me happy... nothing to do... no one to talk to... hope I get better soon... put in crazy ward..."
I read over that poem again 'If Only'. It sounded so fresh, peaceful, like a graceful water fairy lightly trotting on lily pads, the early morning dew slowly evaporating from it's state of making the lily pads sparkle.
It suddenly hit me that I hadn't included any names in my entries, just in case he did somehow come into possession of it. Strange, if that wasn't why he was no where to be found then I don't know what it could be... maybe he just didn't like me. I missed seeing his tall tanned body, even if it had been less than a week, even if I didn't even know him that well, even if I thought he was one of my very rare sources of communication, the very few that kept me sane, well, partly. They were my lifeline, like a lighthouse warning incoming ships of the harsh rocks that lay ahead during the prolonged journey.
I flipped the page and grabbed out for my pen. The touch of it almost froze my fingers. I retracted my fingers, gave them a warm blow and went to retrieve the writing utensil again. It was still cold, but I couldn't feel as much as the chill as my previous try.
It had become surprisingly cold in my room, getting colder and colder everyday. Soon I bet there will be icicles hanging from the ceiling. The heaters must have gone out along with the phone line, but there was still a strong flow of electricity pumping around, another mystery that I couldn't be bothered inquiring.
I found myself doodling my name everywhere around my page.
YOU ARE READING
Remembering Hope FindlayMystery / Thriller
"Hunted, hunting and almost gone." Hope, a natural hearted teenager. That's where it stops. What would you do if you couldn't remember anything from your life? What would you do if you didn't even know you had a name or what you were doing in hospi...