Dear Notepad-On-Top-of-Dr.-Smith’s-Desk,

My name is Kayla Summers. According to your records, I have been here for 6 days. I awoke to the balloons and presents and Get Well cards, but it seems I couldn’t contact any of your nurses.

I’ve buzzed for the nurse for the past half an hour, all the while watching reruns of whatever show you had set to on my TV. It wasn’t very interesting, by the way.

I’m getting hungry, but I don’t know my way around this hospital, and none of your stupid nurses or doctors are walking in the hallways. I think I’m going to file a complaint down in the office.
..
I’m back from the office (I ripped one of the maps off the wall to find my way around, since it seems I’m not going to be receiving any help from you), and there is nobody down there either. Is today a national holiday? I’m going to find the remote and check the news.
..
The news channel doesn’t even work. You guys must have horrible reception or something. I’m going home, so I can find out whats going on.