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"""I am sorry for the times you did not feel loved or worthy. That the world had shown you less than you deserved. I did my best to love you. To show you every time we touched. Every time I held you in my arms Entwining my body tightly around yours. Cocooning you from the hurt that came from every direction. My head was full of whispers Thoughts of how I loved, respected and valued you. How you were most worthy and wonderful. Smart and beautiful and funny. Remarkable, oh, so, remarkable. So, I'm sorry for the way the world turned it's back against you and for The times you did not receive the love which you deserved. But I hope you know; each time I held you in my arms, I was doing my best to show you that I love you and always would."" ""The hospital is incredibly quiet. Its hum of noises are smoothly running along like clockwork. My head, on the other hand, is oh so loud. It's like a carnival after hours, where everyone has gone mad and there is no order. Chaos, madness, insanity, anarchy everywhere. I want to scream, but I still have trouble speaking and my face is contorted. It has a mind of its own, twisting and straining in unbelievably awkward ways. It hurts like hell. I feel as though a dozen hands are grappling at the flesh on my face, pulling and stretching in different directions, so tightly I can scarcely blink or breathe. My neck cranes too, jerking back and rolling against my shoulders, mainly my right one. At least when that happens, I can see outside my hospital bedroom window, it's pitch-black with tiny flickering lights of various colours. They remind me of the fireflies up at the golf course back at Mum and Dad's."""

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