The disease lived deep in her cells, constantly mutating. Drugs and medication were food, the hospital her home. It finally vanished -hope dwelled, but like hope- a fire, it gets extinguished. 24 hours, 7 days in the hospitals rooms, the sterile and antiseptic wall clung onto her skin that even her nightmares were of the hospital.

The clawing, the screaming, the screeching of every sick individuals resounded of the walls they've now accepted to call home,maybe not.

But they all clung onto hope, but fear smothered that out like a known acquaintance feeding upon one's anger, jealousy, revenge and yet one's perseverance.

Its devious smile stood upon every shadow silhouette: on the young girl not ready to die, on the old, frail woman waiting for her husband to arrive before she's taken to a world she no longer recognizes, or even the woman who was not a patient nor sick, but has walked through every corners and vertices of within the hospital walls grieving for people she had let into her life.

Fear sat there like a known acquaintance that fed upon every sign of doubts waiting for its next victims, with his victims unaware of its presence as they stand unamazed, unfazed in the playdate arrange with it.