You Will Be Found

Chapter Six

It turned out that I couldn't walk the length of the hospital ward without getting dizzy and nearly falling over. I huffed as Nurse Fane tucked me back into bed. I wouldn't be going home today.

"Don't go pushing yourself, young lady. You've had a big scare and your health was poor to begin with. I don't know what your guardians were thinking..." Her voice trailed off as she pottered around the room again then left after Carlyle, Mr Baxley Senior's driver, arrived with breakfast and lunch. Dinner would be sent to the ward via a local restaurant, but Mr Baxley Senior felt it his duty to ensure that a home-cooked meal was delivered at least once a day. I appreciated it, I really did, but worried about what his family would think, him caring so much for a girl who got in the way and dared to be hit by the wealthy man's car. Yep, I bet they are thinking I did it on purpose just to get attention, money or some other form of compensation. I huffed again, but ate my breakfast in a grump.

"I see you managed to eat a little more today, that's good, Miss Laruna." Dr Marksen arrived on his morning rounds and encouraged me to keep eating, keep getting better and take small walks outside the ward. He had his resident intern write down his notes and they left as quickly as they had come. He was a nice doctor. I liked him.

Nurse Fane was also happy that I'd eaten more at last night's dinner and again this morning. She helped me into the shower, into clean pyjamas, and back into bed, then left me to read on my phone while she attended other patients in the children's ward. She spent more time with me, I could tell. But that was probably because other sick kids in other rooms all had parents or family members looking after them.

I shuddered at the thought of someone from my uncle's or aunt's families coming to visit me. They wouldn't anyway. I was legally eighteen and no longer under their guardianship. Also, they wouldn't come near me for fear that I'd demand they release my trust fund to me now that I don't need them to care for me any longer. Not that they ever did.

I was also grateful that Nurse Fane made things clear to everyone involved in my case that I did not wish to be in contact with my so-called family or ex-legal guardians. It would be detrimental to my health and well being. I completely agreed with her, one hundred percent!

When a trolley was pushed into the room, a kindly elderly lady offered me some learning activities, books or laptop for entertainment purposes. All heavily marked with 'City C Children's Hospital', the equipment in the trolley covered a range of equipment for children from ages two right up to seventeen years of age. I smiled at the kind lady and shyly asked if I could use a laptop. When she tried to foist onto me books and colouring materials, I took them anyway but left them alone on the end of my bed. She helped me plug the dated and rough-looking kids' laptop into an electrical outlet at the head of my bed and left the room with her trolley in tow.

Technically, I shouldn't have been admitted to the City C Children's Hospital. I wasn't seventeen years old any more. I was eighteen, nearly nineteen in a few months. My body was so under-developed from years of undernourishment that, when they brought me to the hospital after I had first collapsed, they had assumed I was young, until they found my student ID with my date of birth on it. Mr Baxley must have pulled strings as they didn't move me again. This was the reason why I could now enjoy the use of an outdated, banged-up kids laptop while I was enjoying my stay in hospital. Very handy. Very welcomed.

I spent the whole next two days typing out the first hundred chapters of my original web novel, almost word-for-word. Spelling, grammar and punctuation were almost perfect. I even remembered to include the suggested changes to the script of the original editor that Bekka had contracted. It was fun, and I enjoyed myself immensely.

Late the next evening, I finally finished book one. I then signed up to three major online web novel platforms and uploaded the book blurb, metadata details and the first twenty chapters. I had to fumble for an image for the cover as most professional image sites required at least seventy dollars to purchase any of their photos. I managed to find a royalty free, appropriate and cute photo of a young lady with beautiful eyes and expressive facial features.

The font I used for the title and author 'Little Birdy' was a little boring, but it fitted the theme for the sweet romance story I'd rewritten. There was an appropriate amount of sappiness in the cover that fitted with the story. I was happy to upload that on all three websites with the beginnings of my story.

That done, I spent the rest of the night typing out three songs that I'd composed in my last life, edited them a little bit then signed the composer as 'Little Birdy' once again. It was actually that eccentric music producer that gave me the idea for the non-de-plume (pen name). He had said that if I ever wanted to break free and fly again, that he'd help. Well, now I was breaking free and ready to fly. 'Little Birdy' was a lovely name and I was very, very happy to stay anonymous with my music and novels.

I slept in the next morning and woke to the worry of Nurse Fane. I made some excuses about playing online too long and she immediately confiscated the hospital laptop scolded me, like a mother hen. It was nice. I was finally able to walk the whole of the ward from one end to the other that morning. It was time to go home.

I had seven weeks until my high school exam results would be released and I needed to move house, sign up for vet nurse assistant distance learning courses, write book two and three of this new web novel series, and find a part-time job to help pay for everything. Sigh. That was a lot.

As I changed out of my lovely pyjamas – which I was told I could keep, yay – and back into my old school uniform, Nurse Fane arrived with a bag of secondhand clothes that she'd collected from her niece.

"These don't fit her any longer so she was happy to donate them. Don't say no, just take them and wear them. I'll be upset if you refuse." She passed the bag over then left the ward room with suspicious sniffing. Was that her goodbye? I wondered. An old pair of denim white-washed jeans that were a little short in the leg and a t-shirt and baby-blue hoodie jumper were in the bag. I smiled. These were perfect.

I changed, collected my new pyjamas and school uniform into my very tired-looking bag then, after one last check around the room, I tucked my phone into my new jean's pocket and left the room.

One last goodbye at the nurses' station and promises that I'll take care of myself and that was that. I left the hospital just before lunch with two or three extra bags of food from the kind nurses. They claimed it was foodstuffs left over from previous families whose children had already left the hospital. One of the bags actually contained a warm pot of beef stew that I bet was someone's lunch. Beef, real beef meat. I've never tasted anything so heavenly in my life. After eating it while sitting on a park bench in one of the hospital gardens, I began to think about the ethics of eating animals while also being an animal lover and felt terribly guilty.

That lead onto an afternoon of research into vegan and vegetarian diets, the ethics of eating meat and plant-based meat products while I made my way home on foot. I had to take many stops to rest in malls, eateries, bus stops and on roadside garden ledges. By the time the sun dipped below the surface of the city, my phone had long run out of battery and I had exhausted my energy levels. I had finished drinking warm water in one Thermos and a bottle of apple juice and eaten my way though a third of the foodstuffs that was edible without prior cooking. I was home. I was mostly full. I was tired and ready for bed.