hair reading the newspaper and mumbling over some event. May was at his feet putting a puzzle together, waiting for me to help her with her homework. They were all waiting for me to come home, to come back.

I saw myself running up to the front door and tugging on the door knob when it didn't turn. The door wouldn't open. Why was it locked? I pounded and called.

"MOMMY! DADDY! CARY!"

No one came to the door. I turned and looked

around desperately, but instead of seeing my front yard, I saw the sailboat, only now it began to grow larger. The pond became the ocean. Someone was in the boat, steering it toward shore. He was calling to me, beckoning. The boat drew closer and closer until I saw him vividly, my Robert.

"Laura," he was calling. "Come back. Laura . . ."

Now I was running down the beach toward the boat, but the more I ran, the farther away it became. I ran harder and began to call to him. I seemed to run over the same sand repeatedly, never making any progress as he continued to call and to beckon.

"What's wrong with you?" I heard someone ask and instantly all my memories evaporated. Mrs. Roundchild stood by the side of my bed with my medication in hand, gazing down at me. "Why are you crying?"

"I . . . can remember lots of things now. I remember my family and my home," I said. "And I remember Robert and a boat and--"

"That's good. Here," she said, "take your medicine. Clare's bringing your breakfast."

"Maybe I shouldn't take any more medicine now," I said. "Now that I'm really remembering things, maybe it's better I have a clear mind."

"Why is it everyone wants to be a doctor here?" she asked, almost with a smile. "I'm sorry, but you have to spend a little time in medical school first."

"I'm not trying to be a doctor, but it just feels right that I shouldn't take anything."

"Really? Well, up until now, has Doctor Scanlon been wrong? Haven't you begun to remember things and do it in a fashion where you don't hurt yourself or get mentally incapacitated? Isn't that true?"

"Yes," I said "I suppose."

"You suppose? Well, I know. I've been a head nurse on this floor for nearly five years now and I've seen many, many different kinds of illness, a number of cases similar to your own. I've seen Doctor Scanlon treat them successfully, too. So, I don't have to suppose," she said.

Tears filled my eyes once more.

"I just want to go home," I said.

"You will if you do what you're told." She paused for a moment, her expression softening. "I don't mean to be cruel to you, Laura, but I must be firm. I have an awesome job here. I am responsible for a number of people who are not able to be responsible for themselves. Many of these people have and will continue to hurt themselves if I don't follow doctor's orders in regards to them. There is a lot to do and little time to do it. Everyone needs specialized, personal treatment. It makes it hard to waste time, do you understand?"

"Yes," I said in a small voice.

"Good. Then take your medicine. Doctor Scanlon will be here to evaluate you and your progress and we'll see what he wants to do after that."

With trembling fingers, I plucked the pills out of the cup and put them in my mouth. She handed me the glass of water and I swallowed them down.

"Very good," she said. "Your breakfast is on its way."

She left the room and moments later, Clare arrived with my tray. She raised my bed and moved the table over me.

"I'm getting better," I told her. "I'm

remembering things quickly now. I'll be able to go home."

"That's nice. I'd like to have less to do," she said. She paused. "But whenever someone leaves the floor or gets moved to the Zombie Ward, there's always someone else to take their place. I heard they have a waiting list as long as my arm," she added.

"Can you find out about a patient for me? Can you find out about Megan Paxton?"

"They don't like me asking about patients. If anyone working here is caught talking about the patients, they could be fired instantly," she said. "I gotta get breakfast to the others," she added before I could plead with her any more. She quickly left the room.

I sighed with disappointment and frustration and began to pick at my breakfast. I ate what I could, then closed my eyes, and dozed off. When I woke, my bed had been lowered and my tray taken away. I stared at the white ceiling.

Tags: V.C. Andrews Logan Horror
Source: readsnovelonline.net