I woke up the next morning to the constant ringing; screeching into the very core of my ears drums.

The idea of a morning walk did not sound as appealing, now, as it had the previous night when I had discovered the path around the plants inside the sheltered gardens.

Still in reluctance, I left the warm company of the feather bed and the soft mattress, and slipped into my track pants.

The next hour found me panting, sitting on the bench, and drenched in sweat. The sun had come up and the glass house was yet again shining.

I made my way off to my room, after attaining a steady heart rate, to wash myself and slip into a tidy pair of clothes.

The place was huge and there still were parts of it left for me to discover. The cold had increased and my body was screaming for the company of bed, yet again.

I was hoping, perhaps that after the jog, a warm bath and a filling breakfast; my body wouldn't be as stiff as earlier, a little more active and definitely adapted to the cold; but there existed a little spark inside me that had said otherwise. Presently, the spark had turned into an inferno, burning bright and tugging on to my eye lids heavily, and hammering hard and loud around my cranium. Overcome by the flames, I crashed into my bed calling it off for the morning.

It was a few days (or rather nights) later that I couldn't fall asleep. An impatient notion kept nagging round my brain towards an oddity, but I just couldn't put a pin onto what it was. The cold didn't bother much anymore, and yet the uncertainty of the existence of a black mole amongst the white ruled.

The days had been the same. A run following the hunt for the infamous ear offender; tailed by the breakfast of omelette (It really was delicious), and so on. Basically, it was the usual affair. I had discovered a lot more about the place and was still left amazed by various aspects of it.

I started going through the list of people I knew; flipping along in my mind, checking for anything that could give me my clue. The were Mr and Mrs. Brown, the old couple; the kid Jade who had been sent alone. He made it pretty obvious to anyone within the vicinity of his that he did not want to be here. Then there was my new found acquaintance, Mr. Wilson with his air of difference lingering around him, he did have an accent that wasn't known to my ears; my humble host, Mrs. Jocelyn; the lawyer guy...

A quick thought brushed past my train of thought and I tried holding onto it. It had started to make sense. My host, a merry lady- no doubt- loved her job, but the cheer she showed was certainly not felt by her. In her joy lingered a sadness, tainting her happiness, bugging her and bothering her. It also explained the uncanny sort of silence that embraced the hallways.

The restless creature which was earlier gnawing at my leisure, now sat grinning and purred in affirmation, a satisfied look painted on its face. There was something wrong and my curiosity had been irked.

Thirst is a weird feeling. One could go about with no problems for a long time, but once someone's fancy was caught and the thirst was felt, it rampaged around in one's head, leaving one restless until the thirst for curiosity was quenched. And hence, my senses stayed perked, trying to pick on anything that would seem out of place or tell me something. Of all the blue, there was one thing I could tell. The ring had caught me and I was very well stuck in its center.

Naturally, the mere idea of me falling asleep had escaped to the farthest pastures where the sun shone brighter than ever, burning off the fragments of slumber that had taken refuge in the back of my retinas.

And this was how a young man of 21 spent the night reliving flashbacks of whatever small amount of time he had spent around the certain someone, trying his hardest to sniff up any scents of lingering moments that could perhaps give a better understanding, and thereby some calm to his conscience.

By the time morning came, signified by my waking up, it was already noon; hence depriving me of the right to call it a morning. My bed was a mess, me lying half-hanging; a state that might have suggested me being knocked down to the bed- courtesy of a hammer to my head.

Despite all haze, it had become clear to me that I had to find my way into Ms. Porter's comfort zone and try to help her out. Perhaps this was nature's way to helping me achieve my goal, but I didn't know.