Chapter Twenty One And A Half: Heal What Has Been Hurt
She walked down the hallway, black boots hitting the white floor. One hand was in her jeans, and the other carried a flat package that a man had given her outside. She held it to her red blouse, under a brown leather jacket, her blonde hair in a side braid. The man walking with her wore the usual hospital uniform, carrying a clipboard with him.
"How long?" She asked, feeling like it's been ages.
"Only three weeks. But she's not ready to come out yet." He said, stopping at a door. On it was a number: 221. The twenty first door on the second level.
"She hates being alone." The girl said, turning to her escort.
"Is that why she attempted suicide? Twice?" He asked. The girl was silent. "I'm going to need a name for her log."
"Lucy." The blonde girl said, hugging the package.
"Last name?"
"Smith."
The man scribbled the name down, and opened the door.
"Be careful. She's unstable." He said, and Lucy looked at him with irritated eyes.
Sitting at a ledge near the window was another girl. Lucy threw the package onto the bed and burst towards her friend.
Her dark hair rose, exposing her tearful blue eyes. In her hands dangling was a necklace with an "A" on it.
Lucy embraced her, the girl not responsive. For she was stuck in her thoughts.
"Oh Aspen, how did you get like this?" She asked.
Three weeks ago, Sherlock Holmes had died.