Seven months later.

Hannah paced back and forth in the waiting room.

She wanted to slit her wrists, or shoot her brains out, or take as many pills as possible so that she would die, after throwing up her guts and taking her last breath in a mixture of her own vomit and bodily fluid.

Okay, that didn't sound like the most pleasant way to die.

And she was pretty sure that if she tried to get up onto the roof she'd have a bit of an issue.

That and this was a hospital, so the likelihood of her trying to kill herself only to be saved by the doctors and nurses here were rather high.

Okay, so Hannah didn't really want to die, per say…

She just didn't want to be here.

All she wanted right now was a nice cup of tea and to sit in front of a fireplace and to write to her little, shattered and slightly mended heart's content.

But blast her good conscience and her love for her freaking sister.

She slumped against a wall, sliding down until she hit the ground.

She stayed like that for quite some time, not knowing what to do, what to think.

"Ma'am?" A hesitant voice above her called.

Hannah looked up and saw a pretty blond nurse looking down at her in worry.

Hannah wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" the nurse asked, bending down to Hannah's level.

"No. I'm not alright, but thanks for asking." Hannah sniffed.

"Do you need me to call someone?" the nurse asked.

"No – everyone's here –"

Hannah's eyes brightened slightly.

"Do you have a phone I could use?" Hannah asked.

"Over there on the wall." The nurse said.

Hannah stood up and after thanking the lady, rushed over to the phone.

You do know that I can tell when you don't review righttttt???