I’m worried.
It’s been two days since I’ve seen Bowie.
When I asked the orderlies about him, all I’ve been greeted with is a big fat nothing. Something isn’t right. My heart aches, and I don’t know why.
This place has a way of making an hour feel like ten. I need to get out of here because the longer I’m in here, the worse my mental health becomes. There are whispers among the patients that something happened to Noah, which is why he’s not been at work.
I’m not complaining about the fact, but I know that the reason has got something to do with Bowie.
“You’ve got a visitor.”
I peer up from my chair by the window and see the smiling face of a young nurse. She must be new. Give her a month, and I doubt she’ll be smiling.
She wheels the chair over to me, indicating walking isn’t an opti
