January 10, 2012
I came to the hospital today to check on Jason. It came as quite a shock that he had gone! His IV cord was crudely ripped out of his hand. A bit of his bloody, gooey skin hung on the end of the syringe. I bolted down the stairs to alert the nurse. She replied with this: "OF COURSE he is. He's also in a good enough condition to even stand." She walked away, chuckling. I despise every single d*** nurse in the world. She could have put an end to it all before it started, but instead she gave me her sarcasm. I continued to the exit, screaming, "Jason is loose! Jason is loose!" I pulled the fire alarm, then looked for him outdoors. He was easy to track him down, having a trail of blood following him. others followed me. When I saw finally saw Jason, I feared approaching him. Instead, I hid behind a corner, stuck my head out a little, and said: "It's me, Charlene." He flipped around. He had sharp, bloody teeth, and his arm had been bitten to remove the cord. Somewhere nearby, a clock struck midnight.