I could breathe... I could see... I could smell… I can feel…

Pain, there was so much pain, all over everywhere each breath like heavy weightlifting. The pain in my head was so intense I could barely keep my eyes open.

‘Why?’ ‘Why am I alive?’ ‘What kind of sick joke is this?’ ‘I should be dead, I jumped out of a fucking skyscraper!!!’

Forcefully, I shifted my gaze to my body. Beyond the oxygen mask, both legs were wrapped in bandages and hoisted in the air with metal supports. My mummified right hand was also hoisted up in the air and the bed was surrounded by numerous monitors. I felt everything, the pain made sure of it, I was more aware of my body than I had ever been.

A nurse walked up to me. She seemed enthusiastic about something tapping repeatedly on a notepad. And then walked off without a single word. A while later, a doctor came in; brown hair, glasses, and the white coat—the usual. He gazed at the monitors around me and noted them down his hands repeatedly tapping the bedside counter.

‘What’s going on?’

Tap. Tap. Tap tap tap tap.

It sped up and suddenly slowed down until the taps had transformed into thuds. A warning beep erupted somewhere. I noticed the doctor turn swiftly before he seemed to call out something in a panic. It was only then I realized I had l lost my sense of hearing. Something sharp pierced my chest and suddenly my vision clouded over.

‘What’s… happening…’

It suddenly became black once more.

It was cold. So cold it hurt. Painful cold ran through my chest, It was aiming for my heart. Slowly it closed in, nothing would stop its advance, nothing could. Finally, It reached me, gripped me, and pain with no words to truly describe tormented me. My eyes shot open, ripping me away from the pain. I noticed two flat pads being lifted off my chest—A defibrillator.

A needle passed through my arm, I felt it but I had no idea how they got past the cast. The raging headache resumed as they wheeled me out of the OR.

I was now alone in an empty ward tucked away silently in the corner with only my thoughts. I guess even the doctors could instinctively sense my worth because after that, a nurse only came to check on me once a day and she always seemed eager to leave each visit. There was hardly any difference between day or night in this room and the pain kept me awake most of the time.

The nurse walked in again, this time with two figures in tow—My parents. Somehow they remembered me enough to visit, another error. I saw tears in my mom’s eyes.

‘Why?’ ‘Why is she crying?’ ‘For me? No that’s impossible!’

The questions bothered me so much I wanted to scream it and I did try but the pipe down my throat had other plans, hence only a weak whistle came out. she trembled as she approached me, Dad was staring at me emotionlessly. Now that was a proper reaction.

Her hand touched mine.

“I’m sorry,” She said.

‘What?’ ‘Why is she apologizing?’ ‘Oh, I see…’

It made sense. I had just been suddenly moved to a desolate ward where I was barely attended to, which meant the bills had probably overwhelmed them and they came here to let me know they’ve abandoned me. I turned my eyes away from her. They had all the right to, all I’d ever been to them was a burden. Finally, after a few minutes, the nurse ushered them out to let me rest. And I was all alone again. The thought came again.

‘Why didn’t I just die’ ‘I couldn’t even do that right.’

I’d been in a coma for six months. I learned that from a conversation between the nurse and the doctor in charge of my care. I rarely ever saw them together in this desolate ward.

Due to the boredom, I played a game of some sort with myself. I tried to predict when next I would hear footsteps pass by and as a bonus which one would be the nurses. I failed countlessly, if only I was smarter…

My mind suddenly drifted to her.

‘She probably knows by now’

Basically, everyone on campus knew that Jamie was cheating, well everyone except Sarah. I could’ve told her but no one would believe the words of a loser like me, instead, it would probably backfire.

I couldn’t really say I knew her but, she probably wouldn’t take it well. No one ever does. Maybe at that moment, they felt like me, worthless, so worthless that their partners had to look for better alternatives.

No one else deserved to feel like that, no one else...but me.

‘I hope she gets through it’

I might probably die here. Either way, it’s fine. They at least tried to foot the bills and insurance covered as much as it could anyways. Considering the constant pain I felt, a lot of stuff must be broken inside. I only wanted freedom, yet I managed to burden them even more. If I died, they wouldn’t have to worry about a waste of space like me, they could live their lives happily and freely.

Thankfully, dying here meant no miraculous comebacks. I’d finally win. Now it was only a numbers game before organs start to fail and I would be finally free and maybe get a chance to apologize to my sister. The chance was extremely slim but it still existed.

I am a mistake, even so… I…

‘Don’t be conceited’

There was no justifying it. I was allowed to have dreams and a family who cared at least long enough before they realized what I was. I tried. They say if you try hard enough, you’ll achieve your goals you’ll get what you worked for. I guess that only applies to non-anomalies.

‘Why was I born?’ ‘I’m a mistake, then why didn’t I die then?’ ‘Why all this suffering?’ ‘What was the point of all this?’

There was no point in living. There was no going back, If I somehow survived this, I would try again the first chance I got. The project I worked so hard for was already way past the due date—automatic fail. Efforts invalid. It’s fine.

Dying like a martyr would sound nice, that by dying all the pain in this world would suddenly disappear. It would be so easy to delude myself into thinking that. If I took on all the suffering, all the pain, no one else would have to face it. If it was me then it would be okay. A convenient escape.

But the cold hard truth was that no matter what, this world would still bleed like it always did. My existence only aggravates the wounds further. Redemption for me is only a drunk fool’s dream.

‘If so..’ ‘Why…’ ‘I have already accepted my fate.’ ‘Then...why?’ ‘Why am I crying?’ ‘I’m so hopeless…’