The Hospital

I don't remember much about the days that followed. I was in a daze, my mind foggy and my heart heavy with grief. The hospital room was a blur, with its sterile smell and beeping machines. I was there, but I wasn't really there. I was lost in my thoughts, reliving the moments I shared with the four hotels, remembering their laughter, their smile, and their loving touch. As I lay in bed, I could feel the weight of my grief bearing down on me. It was like a physical force, crushing me, making it hard to breathe. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of emptiness that had settled inside me. The doctors and nurses came and went, trying to talk to me, trying to help me. But I wasn't listening. I was too busy reliving the memories of the four hotels, too busy wondering what I could have done differently. I vaguely recall the sound of footsteps outside my room, the murmur of voices, and the occasional beep of a machine. But it was all distant, like I was observing it from outside my body. It wasn't until I saw my reflection in the mirror that I realized the extent of my grief. My eyes were sunken, my skin pale, and my hair dull. I looked like a shadow of my former self. The days passed, and I slowly began to come back to reality. I started to eat, to sleep, and to talk to the people around me. But the pain of losing the four hotels remained, a constant ache that I couldn't shake off. One day, as I was sitting in bed, staring blankly at the wall, I felt a gentle touch on my hand. It was a nurse, smiling softly at me. "Hey, Noa, how are you doing today?" she asked, her voice gentle. I shrugged, not knowing how to answer. I wasn't doing well, but I didn't know how to say it. The nurse nodded sympathetically. "It's okay, Noa. You're doing great. You're taking it one step at a time." I smiled weakly, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I just miss them so much," I whispered. The nurse's expression softened. "I know, sweetie. I know. But you're strong, and you'll get through this. You just have to take it one day at a time." I nodded, feeling a small sense of comfort. Maybe she was right. Maybe I could get through this, one day at a time. As the nurse left my room, I felt a sense of determination wash over me. I would get through this, I would find a way to heal, and I would keep the four hotels' memory alive. But for now, I just lay in bed, feeling the weight of my grief, and wondering what the future held.