Still not sure of the time or the day. Funny, that. It's like, when I try to check on the laptop or my phone, my eyes just skid away from any numbers.
I know my blood runs hot,
And I've seen my blood is thick
I'm told my blood's not sweet,
And I cry, "my soul is sick"
Funny girl... We're on the move. It's eerie, the feeling of emptiness where there should be people. There are symbols scratched along the walls occasionally in this not-hospital. A certain symbol is absent, thankfully. Almost a week in the hospital or more. Yeah, more than a week we were there. This isn't the same place, though.
When I went to check the hall where the squeaking was, I saw, of all things, Marie... Who is dead. At least, it looked like her. I know it wasn't, though. I don't know how, but I know it was just a figment of this place... Of course, the dissipating into laughing mist might have helped that assumption.
The hospital grows more convoluted as we move, looking for a way out. Labyrinthine. Who is the Minotaur this time, and will we even see trace? Have to keep moving. The thing about true labyrinths is that they are not mazes. There is a path out.