104 days Of Summer

I blinked in the darkness, wondering where the hell I was. Then it hit me, and recollections of the past wild hours flowed back to me in a torrent. I sat bolt up, looking around, half-expecting a pack of wild fans to start going after my clothes at any moment. But it was dark, the bed-side table showed 3 a.m. What the hell?

Trying to gather my wits, and not panic, I quietly slipped off the bed and grabbed my jacket. I was going to get the freaking out of here, ninja-style.

Donning on my jacket, I opened the door a crack, winching when it creaked, and peered out. All clear. I got out and tiptoed across the deserted corridor. There was no one, no screaming fan girls assaulting me, no jealous boyfriends going out of their way to pick a fight. This town rocks!.

The reception area was dimly lit and the middle-aged woman, the receptionist I guessed, was snoring lightly, her head turned away from him. Trying to make as little noise as possible, I ran across the lobby and finally got out of the hospital. The streets were deserted and with no trouble at all, I managed to get to my new-home. Once inside, I made my way to the couch and collapsed.

* * * * *

Neon strode into the City Hospital, following the lead of her grandmother. She was in a terrible mood. The entire last night, and most of the morning, was spent with her grandmother lecturing her about responsibility and about controlling her temper and whatnot. It was impossible to keep the scowl off her face while listening to her about how hurt the poor kid must be at her behavior. And the only amends that her grandmother could think of was to visit the jerk the next day and buying him very nice, and not to mention very expensive, bouquet, which incidentally came from her allowance. Life is so unfair at times….

Every step echoed down the deserted hallway. Usually, there are not many people in the hospital. Neon kept her eyes strained for the guy with the issues. If he acted like a maniac again, she would not be going easy on him this time. Then again, her granny might have something to say about it.

Neon strode to the brightly-lit reception area. The receptionist was a blonde woman, around thirty, and had pretty hazel eyes. Neon inquired about the “guy on whom the bookshelf toppled”. The receptionist frowned. With hurried words, she told them about the “run-away” patient.

After a few minutes, Neon and her grandmother exited the hospital. “I knew it,” Neon grumbled on their way home, “that boy is a total psycho.”

At that very moment, Joe Jonas flashed back on the girl who had helped him to the hospital, then knocked him out. “Psycho.” He muttered, shaking his head.

* * * * *

It was sunny in the beach, the dull sound of the waves lapping against the sand was somehow soothing to Neon’s mind. Despite the amazing weather, the beach was almost empty. Neon was pondering over this strange fact when the distant lighthouse caught her eyes. It had been years since she had visited the lighthouse. When she was young, she adored that rundown old hut. The musty smell of sea salt and moldy wood, along with that refreshing feeling of the sun shining was too compelling to resist. It was a different world in there.

Neon stood up, brushing the sand off her jeans. Looking around, she suddenly realized why the beach was deserted. There was a discount going on in the nearest mall. Obviously, the teenagers who usually crowded the beach were off in a shopping spree, since they had nothing better to do. That made up her mind. She wouldn’t miss the hours she planned on spending alone in her favorite sanctuary, undisturbed by the wild giggling kids, for anything. As she walked determinedly towards her haunt, she looked back. For an insane second, she had the feeling of being watched. Then it passed.