Chapter 20 - Spill it out

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– Monday, May 14th, –

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– Monday, May 14th, –

I'm starting to realise I am a lucky person on Monday, the day I am checked by a doctor and am told I can go home to recover further. My motoric skills are still weak, I am tired easily, and I'm confused still – worse even since I spoke to Gerald before weekend started.

But I'm cleared and allowed to go home little over a month after being in an accident. Though I'm late compared to Oliver-who-ever-he-may-be, since I heard he left before the weekend.

I've been pondering over my nightmares about drowning, writing the same nightmare down each morning as soon as I woke up.

Much to my displeasure, Finnley, after storming out of the room on Friday, hasn't visited me once ever since. He wasn't there in the chair when I woke up, he wasn't there to have breakfast with, he wasn't there reading in my room while I was doing my own thing; just for the sake of being in the same room.

I asked my parents and Stan about him, I asked the nurses about him, the doctor even, but all told me he was working on his own recovery. Annette, one of the main nurses, whispered to me that Finnley had a setback that caused him to have a couple of really bad days, and told me to not tell anyone she told me about it – she isn't allowed.

I was thankful for her honesty anyway and kept it to myself that I knew Finnley was having bad days.

And I got worried worse about him because if that, and the fact even I'm allowed to go home, and he's still there. I know his bad days, his set back started after I reminded him I'm dating Stan, even if I had feelings for him previously.

I still do, but I must have forgotten why I stayed with Stan instead of being with Finnley.

I just can't remember.

And than there's the fact Stan hasn't visited me on Sunday and isn't here to pick me up from hospital today either. I want to text him, but I still haven't gotten a new phone, while the old one was never found after the accident.

I also started noticing, and call me suspicious here, how no one else calls it an accident, but they all say 'car crash'. It had me wondering, since Oliver-who-ever-he-may-be wasn't at fault in the accident, if there's more to that story than I'm being told.

But, as instructed by Gerald, I push those thoughts and feelings of frustration aside, allowing my mind to decide the pace of remembering things.

I'm silent all throughout the ride home, while mom tells me how they moved back my furniture from the apartment I apparently share with Nathan, to make sure I would feel right at home and I would still recognize my room.

I guess I would think it's weird if I wouldn't come home to a room I remember. It would be weird for it to have changed.

But I'm also warned they bought new furniture for the living room and they haven't been able to change it back to the furniture from two years ago, since my aunt and uncle took it from them and their house burned down about a year ago.

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