The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Seated on the adjoined bench to my bed, with my diary on the lap, I decide to put a few things off my head by scribbling down. It's been the best therapy whenever I can't talk to anyone about something.

Apparently I have plenty of unspoken words that I'd love to let out. Thinking of the few hours that I've been here, my mind gets jagged with enormous feeling of anxiety over something in the immediate future.

Hence I begin:

Dear God,

All I hoped for was a nice and relaxing vacation, which has been the case by far. I appreciate everything I've...