A/N: I've been waiting all day to write this chapter, a lot of suspense since the last one, eh? Well anyways I hope you enjoy reading just as much as I enjoy writing! Please leave a review, I would love to hear your thoughts and how I can improve! Thank you to the people who have given me reviews!
Chapter 3: Alone.
It's never pleasant waking up in a strange place. It's never pleasant waking up in that strange place alone, regardless of age. I was three now. It was the day after my third birthday, although I had never celebrated it. The strange place was warm, clinical, with clean colours everywhere. Not a patch of dark colour, it was almost eerie. No, it was eerie to me back then. I had several blankets pulled up over me, and I was wearing (by the looks of it) a dress. Even my clothing was in the same colours as the room. My head was beginning to throb, as was the rest of my body. It was then that I hit realisation; my father was gone.
He had fled two nights ago, after setting the block of flats alight. Fortunate for me, we were on the bottom floor; I just prayed that everybody else was alright. Many questions were running through my little head; where was I? Why was I here? Where was my father? Why did he set out home alight? The questions were endless. The only thing that I could remember was being pulled away by some kind old lady and then waking up in the back of the strange car with sirens and funny green men were looking over me.
It occurred to me that I was in a hospital. Why was I here? I was fine, my head was clear and I wasn't hurt. Few cuts and bruises maybe, but certainly nothing worth the attention of a practitioner. This was the second time that I had been in a hospital, minus my birth, which I guessed was in the same building. The only other time that I had been here was when my father had been poisoned by his special drink, which I learned was called "alcohol" and it was very bad for you. I have never touched a single drop of the stuff, and I don't intend to. I drifted back off into a light sleep.
"Hey there little fella, how you doing"? I stared blankly at the friendly-looking practitioner. My first thoughts were 'who ate all the pies?', but I decided against asking him this.
"I'm okay; I'm a little hungry though." The pie-man chortled a hearty laugh, although I didn't know what he found funny.
"Anything in particular you fancy?" he asked as she checked my temperature and afterwards pulled out the needle, which was apparently an IV drip.
"Got any cake? Or biscuits, if you have them I'll have both. If you only have one of them though I'll accept a double helping". My face was expressionless. The pie-man laughed, what was so funny?
"You need real food, not sugar!"
"I don't like 'real food' though."
"Hmm", he turned away with a grin on his face. Once he has exited the room I preceded to taking a little walk, I needed sugar, and fast. I was almost certain he would make me eat something bitter and horrible. Most likely there would be vegetables included, and there was no way a vegetable was going near my mouth.
The entire hospital was eerie, but somehow comforting at the same time. Even though the hospital was full of people, I felt alone. This was a feeling that not even sugar could cure. I had lost my mother three years ago yesterday, and now I had lost my father as well. Most three year olds have their parents to look up to, to be their hero's. I had no-one. I was alone. My father never really cared for me, I reminded him too much of his dead wife, my mother. I had been alone from the very start. I taught myself the simplest things; eating with a knife and fork, not having accidents on my mattress, potty training myself. Wasn't that the parent's job? The realisation hit me like a tonne of bricks falling from above. I had no parents. Well, metaphorically I did; just they weren't here. I had a feeling that I would never see my father again. I was right, my first correct deduction that actually mattered.
A/N: Aww this was so sad to write :( Hope you all enjoyed! Chapter 4 on its way soon!