The King's Den ||h.s||

fifty-seven

I was free to leave the hospital, but I was told to stay resting. Harry was to stay in the hospital, since he was much more severe than I was. Leaving Harry back in the hospital meant insomnia for me in my new room. I wondered about how he was feeling, when he was able to leave, just how severe was Harry?

Over think.

It was pitch black in the large room I was staying in, with the lights on it was all creme and white colored walls, bed, furniture, and in the dark it was all black, quiet, lonely. It was the perfect scenario to over think. It felt even as though the room was my own head, an empty void yet there were things everywhere in the darkness.

This was overwhelming.

I sat up and looked around my room, I turned on the dim light from the lamp next to my bedside. I shuffled through the drawers of the night stand until I found paper and a pen.

I had no idea what I was doing but I had a sudden urge to write.

I wrote for some reason, memories of my childhood. Things I experienced as a young naive girl, and the innocent views of the world;

8th birthday, I received my first camera.

First day of 6th grade, I cried because the teacher asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. I didn't know what I wanted to be, so I cried in front of everyone.

I stopped writing and realized nothing else relevant happened to me since I was 12.

But then I remembered one thing that did.

Age 21, found my place in the world... I found my very own world.

I grew bothered now, and set the paper back on the table and I climbed out of bed. My legs were a bit stronger but they still ached as I tried to take a step.

My legs, carefully, carried me out into the almost hotel looking hallway.

I don't know why I keep doing this, but now I feel needy. I've never felt so in my life.

I was in the familiar halls of the hospital wing of the building and I walked to the room I've grown comfort to.

He was sure enough, awake and looking at the TV provided in the room. He glances up at me and smiles softly, "had a feeling you were coming to see me."

"I don't know why I do," I sighed and sat on the familiar chair.

"Have you been having nightmares again?" He asks. I have been recently having nightmares that would result me in waking up drenched in a cold sweat and shivers throughout my body.

"No, I just couldn't sleep this time."

"What's on your mind?"

I sighed, "there's a lot, yet there's nothing."

"Sounds stressful," he nods.

"Can you do something for me?" I abruptly asked.

Eyes searched my tired features, "what is it?"