Dear Diary,
The whole family went to visit Mrs. Corinthos in the hospital today, and Michael and I got dragged along. Mr. Morgan and Mr. Corinthos actually debated whether to take us or not, but Michael heard them and came downstairs yelling "No! I want to see the scary lady right now! You promised me she would never wake up!" I really am starting to become alarmed by Michael's temper. He's been spending way too much time around Mr. Corinthos.
I almost felt sorry for Mrs. Corinthos, so drawn and pale in her hospital bed. But then I remembered that she's always that thin and ashen. And then Michael tried to give her a handmade "Go Back to Sleep" card, to which she snapped, "Who the hell are you people and what are you doing in my room?" which quickly cured me of any stray feelings of pity.
Confronted with the two children, Mrs. Corinthos seemed unsure of herself. In fact, "Which one of the brats is mine again?" was her exact sentiment. "Oh right!" she pointed at the baby. "Lemme try that one." Mrs. Morgan reluctantly handed over the baby, whispering "Baby ... baby mine ... no Carly's ... " under her breath.
Mrs. Corinthos held him for a moment or two and then shook her head. "nope, I got nothing. Maybe the other one?" Before I could stop them, Mrs. Morgan and Mr. Corinthos wrestled Michael over and forced him into Mrs. Corinthos' arms. "I know what will make you feel better," he said, and began singing a lullabye. "Are you sleepy yet? Want some hot milk?"
She rolled her eyes and shoved him away. "Are you sure one of these kids is mine? Maybe they're both hers!" she pointed at me. "What is she doing here anyway? What are any of you doing here? I was having a really good dream if you know what I mean, and I think you do."
Later on Mr. Corinthos and Mr. Morgan argued about Mrs. Corinthos' condition. "What the hell is wrong with Carly?" Mr. Corinthos mumbled. "I told her that seeing the children would make her feel better, but she didn't do as I said! She betrayed me yet again! Jason, get one of our bodyguards to get the car! Oh right, we don't have any left. Well, you get the car! I'm going to bring her home, send her to her room, and then shoot her in the head!"
Mr. Morgan looked angry. At least, he was staring extra hard. I think that means he's angry. "No tell Carly how to feel! She no feel! Her brain not work! Like me!"
Mr. Corinthos cut him off by throwing a full glass at his feet. Whisky splattered everywhere. I hope they don't expect me to clean that up. "Just because you've experienced first-hand what Carly's going through, you think you can give me advice? Who the hell do you think you are? I own you, just like I own her! Now go to your room!"
Mr. Morgan stood his ground. "Carly like me now! Just like me .... soul mates .... Carleee ..."
He trailed off like that, quietly crooning "Carleee" to himself. Upstairs I could hear Mrs. Morgan crooning "Baybeee" in exactly the same tone. Good heavens, if those two had half such devotion to each other, they'd be a romance for the ages.