You Will Be Found

Chapter Five

I spent the day answering questions from various professionals using a nod (yes) and a shake (no) of my head to give answers. If these strangers asked anything that required anything more than a yes or no answer, I shrugged my shoulders. A psychologist from the Paediatrics Mental Health department visited, then another doctor when Dr Marksen went off duty. The last visitor was some rude, snobby lady from Social Services who had the patience of an Asian sun bear. She was awful and ended up being escorted out of the ward by Mr Baxley when she crossed the line into bullying behaviour. If Grandpa Baxley hears about it, she's probably gonna lose her job.

Nurse Fane stayed with me the whole day, to help me answer questions and explain my behaviour with Sir Percival the Therapy Pet who had visited and left very reluctantly. This was to explain that I was quite communicative around animals and displayed normal happy teenage emotions. I miss Sir Percival already.

I believe the owner of the dog was a Merlin or King Arthur fan. 'Sir Percival' is the name of one of the Knights of the Round Table. I amused myself with fun facts about the King Author mythology. In my head of course. I doubt any of the health care professionals were a least bit interested in the original name for the sword of destiny (Excalibur), how many knights were part of the Round Table legend (12 or 1600 depending on which historian was counting – but I mean, how do you fit 1600 knights and in all their armour and weapons around a table big enough...) Or if Queen Guinevere had any siblings? (She did).

I really liked the name Sir Percival for the therapy dog. Sir Percival was a kid from a broken family (solo mum) who grew up to become a knight, joined King Arthur's court, got bullied, went adventuring to prove himself, met some uncles who taught him to fight (among other things) and was possibly side tracked to go on the hunt for a Holy Grail. Witches, severed heads, unicorn hunting, true love. He was a good man who made a life for himself, despite his circumstances and family's (uncle's) interference.

A bit like me really.

After a long day, and a few more yummy meals, all my visitors departed and I was left to myself. I watched the sky change colours, reflecting the sunset that was out of view. Finally alone, I began to think about my life, my situation, my dreams (Otaku online shopping cat lady, remember?) and what I wanted to do from here on out. I was told I could leave the hospital in the morning, as long as my fever stayed down and I was strong enough to walk from one end of the ward to the other without fainting. No really, that is what the new doctor said. I highly approved as I was certain this could be achieved and I could be on my way home lickety-split.

Hmm. Home. I didn't want to live in the basement storage room any more. It was damp, smelled, and was very cold in the winter. That would be the first thing I'd change. If I could. I needed money, not just for a new place to rent. I needed new clothes now that wearing my school uniform was no longer a viable option. I turned to the newly-washed pair of pyjamas and was thankful that I at least had something to wear at night now. Slippers too. I sighed as I ran a hand over the grey pants I was wearing. So soft.

I liked soft things. I liked warmth. I liked toasty toes and flower gardens and music and breakfast pastry. Reading books and web novels, while drinking hibiscus flower, rose hip, or ginger tea. I loved doodling, playing with animals, especially cats and dogs. I loved the idea of being independent, earning my own money that I actually was able to keep.

How do I make money? What are the things that I became good at in my last life that I could use now to make a quick buck. Hmm, I'd need more than that for a new rental and moving-in bond. I learned that much in my last life when my so-called friend and I moved into a new place together.

Bond, one month's rent, utilities, new clothes, bus/train pass money, food, health supplements. That was going to take a lot of money.

In my last life, I watched over animals for a monster who had held me captive. I was good with animals and knew I could eventually set up either an animal grooming mobile clinic, or an animal walking services job. But I currently don't have any qualifications or experience, nor references to do either of these jobs. I pulled out my old phone and found the website for various courses and veterinarian studies prerequisites. They involved a lot of book work, and some of the local community colleges offered summer programmes for the course work. Oh, there were even a few that offered distant learning options with mainly online classroom learning environments. This looked promising. I put that down on my list of things to do further research on.

Only problem was that the course cost nearly ten thousand dollars. Where was I going to get that kind of money? I looked around my hospital room seeing if any inspiration jumped out at me. More money needed, add that to the list.

Hmm, what about pastry chef or bakery assistant? I looked these details up and found out I'd still need to do the professional training before someone would hire me. There was even more involved in becoming a boulanger pastry chef, or a breakfast pastry chef. I would actually have to enrol in a French culinary training establishment. Oh, there was no distance learning option for these courses. Makes sense really. Baking is very hands-on.

I might just have to be content in making breakfast pastries and yummy breads at home. I nodded to myself. I could do that.

My other passion which was extorted while I was locked up, was music composing. My contemporary music could go either the direction of soft pop or more into a bluesy classical direction. I wrote many songs in my last life for that woman who took my music and sold it under her own name. She became famous for my life's work and I hated her for it. But, back then, I couldn't do anything about it.

Writing music came easily to me. Melody, harmony, rhythm, and form, all came naturally. I created some of the most dynamic music with overtures of textures that hit heart strings in promising ways. Many of the songs I wrote for that woman were thrown away as she screamed at me to write something that she could sell. Radio, online stations and music producers didn't want something that had depth and structure or expression of soul. Not this soul anyway. They wanted something that people could dance to, nod along to while driving or sitting on the train. So she swore at me to make it faster, better and happier. Yes, those were the words she used. Stupid ingrate.

Well, now I could sell my own music and make some money that way. Or at least I could try. There was one person in my past life that loved my music enough to boarder on obsession. He figured out by himself that Bekka – that woman – couldn't have composed any of the number of songs she presented, just by looking at her. So he went hunting and found me at the end of the long, dark trail. Hidden away behind locked doors. He couldn't do anything for me as I'd been roped into legally binding contracts and blah, blah, blah. Long story short, he told me one day that if I was ever free to fly again, that he could be the wind beneath my wings. Cheesy, I know, but he was that kind of eccentric music producer.

I had music aplenty. I could write out fifty new songs right now from the ones I written and sold in my last life. I still had the contact details of that music producer, so I could send them to him. It was worth a try.

Then there were my web novels that I'd also written for Bekka. Five books under her name went viral and she made millions. I don't think I will be writing anything as romantically... suggestive as she had demanded, then sold under her name, but there was one series that I loved and could easily write again. I could upload online to any number of web novel platforms. If I make money, I make money. Try with that first novel and see what happens. If that works out well, write some more. I nodded to myself, pleased with my plans so far.

OK, so my life wasn't a complete mess. Just do the next thing in front of me, make the changes needed to get well and healthy again, then go from there. Pleased with myself, I put away my old phone, turned out the night light above the hospital bed and went to sleep.