“Why are you here?” Lea replied, finally able to ask the question that was bothering her. There was nothing else for them to discuss. What else could be said to a stranger who was always by her bedside when she awoke and wouldn’t explain the reason for his presence?
Darren looked surprised and slightly embarrassed. “Because I hit you with my truck,” he responded, visibly struggling to utter these words.
“But it was not your fault,” Lea explained. “Why do you feel like you’re responsible for my condition.” She began running out of oxygen while using such long sentences.
“I was driving my truck, and you were on the road. I hit you.” Darren replied, wrinkling his brow. “I should have been able to stop the truck before it hit you. But I struck you. How is this not my fault?”
“It is not your fault because I was waiting for a vehicle to run me over,” Lea explained, floundering while endeavoring to sit up. Eventually, she raised herself to one side after a few minutes of pushing her muscles to the limit. But her pain increased to nearly unbearable.
“You wanted to be hit? Why?” Now, it was Darren’s turn to ask her questions as he tried to see into her mind.
“Because I wanted to die,” Lea announced, after allowing herself to fall back into place, without hesitating and without any emotion. Why not confess, she wondered? Maybe if she exhibited complete honesty, he would go away and leave her alone. The ultimate goal was for Darren to leave the hospital room and never return. Lea narrowed her eyes to block out the light and watched him for any indication of movement toward the exit.
“Why did you want to die? We’re so young, and we have so much left to experience.” Darren was genuinely surprised and intrigued.
“I’m twenty-six. I don’t feel young.” Lea changed the subject, not wishing to explain why she wanted to die. It was easier somehow, while regretting her confession.
“I’m twenty-four; what’s the big deal? We’re not even thirty; we have many years left yet.” Darren leaned forward towards her; his face was only two feet away from hers.
Spookychild’s writings 
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