Sorry, I was too tired to describe anything else yesterday.
The head of the tennis club, Lou, was very kind and called 911. They had me lie on the court until the ambulance came. The thought I had heat exhaustion, even though it was the middle of winter.
Now, let me just say, Lou is a pretentious -self censored-, but he knows what he's talking about usually. He's a good coach, but he thinks way too much of himself. However, I trust his judgment most of the time. I went along with his statement that it was heat exhaustion, even though I knew better.
The ambulance driver and the nurses came into the club and helped me onto a stretcher, even though I really could have gotten up and walked. They explained that I could have had a brain injury, and moving the blood around by getting up could make it worse. So I just sat there while they wheeled me out.
I had never been to a hospital before yesterday. It had always been private doctors for physicals and stuff. The second I was wheeled in, I could just smell the sickness in the air.
And you know what it smelled like? It smelled like the Howler's breath. Exactly like his breath. I gagged as soon as I got in the door, but I held in the vomit. It tasted awful, but tasting it was better than smelling the Howler.
I practically held my breath the entire time I was in there. When I breathed, I made sure I breathed through my mouth. Fortunately I wasn't in there long, I passed all of the tests they gave me to make sure I didn't have a concussion or brain hemorrhage. I guess I was pretty lucky.
I got another 'day off', now, because my mom wants me to relax. Make sure I don't faint again. I've been reading through my back posts. How did I not see this man, Locust, was there from the beginning? Right from the first few posts I see him. I knew James was acting strange, and I didn't do anything.
Normality trumps strangeness, I guess. I ignored what I couldn't define, and brushed it off when it came near. I can't do that now, with James gone and the shed turned into a freaking cavern. And don't forget my head. It still hurts, but not as badly. Maybe my fainting spell and knocking it on the ground helped the headache. Ha.
I've been scrubbing at my arm where the dirt is. It doesn't want to go away. In fact, my scrubbing made it stain my arm even more. Now instead of sticking to my skin, it's ingrained in my skin. I've given up trying to rub it. I don't know what to do, but I'm not going to just sit around and wait for the next debilitating thing to happen. I'm going to do something about it.
And by doing something about it, I think I'm going to go to my local library and see what I can find about kidnappings in the area. Bye.
R.C.
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