I walked into the hospital room. The temperature was freezing. It didn't feel like the temperature you should keep a patient at. Then I saw my mother. She was skin and bones. Her skin was dull. Her hair was grey. She looked like a decaying corpse. The only saying that could be heard in the room was the beeping of the EKG machine. At least she was breathing. At least she was alive. She looked so lifeless. Nothing in the room looked alive. It was muted and grey. There were big bags under her eyes. Her cheeks had sunken in. She looked far from healthy. I began to question if the bills I was paying for her were really worth it. She was asleep. She look like she was dead, if it weren't for the EKG machine.
 

Just then her lashes fluttered. Her eyes opened. They were red and irritated. I didn't mean to disturb her sleep. She looked tired. I doubt she did anything else in the day but somehow she still managed to look tired. Her head turned to look at me and she rasped out my name in confusion. I placed the flowers on the bedside table. She looked at me, then at flowers and then back at me. Her face scrunched up in disgust.

“Why… are you here?”

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?!”

Why was I here?

I walked away.

Walking away was the best choice. It was the only choice.

It’s what I’ve always done.

Walking away. Just like I walked away from Jesse, like I walk away from everything.

Why is it always me? I know it’s selfish, but I just wished it was somebody else that had to go through all of this. I’m not cut out for this. I’ve done bad things to good people, maybe that’s why everything in my life is a nightmare. Everything is a punishment. Good people. Like Jesse. Like Anne. Like mum.

I flicked on my lighter. A trembling sigh escaped my lips, a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in. I lit my cigarette. I switched to herbal cigarettes a while back. I really tried to quit smoking, but it feels so impossible. It’s like a lifeline. It’s the one thing I’ve ever done right, slowly killing myself to right all the wrongs. I am the wrong.

I walked and walked to wherever my feet were taking me. And suddenly, when I zoned back in, I was at the beach. What was I doing here? It was getting dark. The tide was going to kick in around now. Maybe a little bit later, but you can never be too sure. I sat down on the sand, I felt its grainy texture under my fingers. I didn’t know what I was doing here, but I couldn’t find it in me to leave. Just like I can’t find it in me to crawl out of this deep, dark hole. This depression.

I felt the smoke pump its way in and out of my chest and the water pooling beneath me. The sand was wet and slowly disappeared from my grasp. I felt like I was on the verge of floating. I don’t know whether it was the water or the smoke, but it was calm.

The faint sounds of people, more like the faint sound of a person, was calling out to me. Was the water speaking to me? Was it calling me? Had it finally accepted me? Just then, I was being hauled up by cold, cold hands. I heard feet sloshing in the water, dragging me out of it. Then I felt the ground and heard the whispers calling me again. Was it mum? Had she run away from the hospital? She came to see me. That’s sweet.

Panic shot through me as I realized what was actually happening. The tide had kicked in and I almost drowned. A person had dragged me out just in time. I was that close to possibly dying. I looked towards the sound and saw a pale man around my age. He was breathing really fast and his eyes were wide. He looked panicked too.

I quickly got up. Relief became visible on him, now that I was finally responsive. He had light brown hair and dark, almost purple, bags under his eyes. He had high cheekbones and pale skin, long hair tied in a low ponytail. He was wearing a beige hoody with a black jacket layered on top, wet at the arms. His grey jeans were soaked till just above his knees. He dragged me out.

“Hey, you okay? What’s your name? Need me to call somebody?” he quickly said as he reached for what was probably his phone.

“No, no I’m good. I’m fine.” But my voice betrayed me, as it wavered when the words left my lips.

“I don’t know what came over me, really. I didn’t realize the tide kicked in.” I tried to re-establish my point, sounding more confident this time.

“Are you sure? You have to be like next level zoned out to not notice that. You live close by? I could drive you home.” Worry was laced in his voice. He was so… so genuine. He was so caring. I had just met him and I almost felt guilty for what I was about to do. And for that, I might just let him drive me home.

“Yea, I live a little past the laundromat.” I said, hoping he’d get the memo. Yes, please.

“Sure.” He looked at me with the sweetest smile, little dimples and squinted eyes. I felt like my heart melted, if not entirely then at least partially.

It’s people like him that make me feel so, so guilty. It’s these kinds of people that end up suffering at the hands of people like me, a war between angels and demons. If he knew what I was, would he have saved me? Would he have smiled at me? Would he still have had that glint in his eye? That worry in his voice?

No, he would not.

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