I was in a coma for six months. It all started one cold, rainy Friday night. I had just gotten out of school. I was driving home, listening to music, when it hit me. A big red truck, straight into my door. I was rushed to the hospital. Everyone I knew had left me, all my friends, family, everyone. Except Alex. Alex had been my boyfriend for 3 months before the accident. We met when I was having anxiety attacks and he wanted to help me cope with them., Every day when he got off work he would come to my hospital bed and stay there for hours. I could hear him talking to me but I could not say anything back. Finally, when I finally got out of the coma, I was so happy to be able to talk to Alex. When I got out of the hospital, I was stuck in bed for weeks, but still, Alex came and took care of me. When I finally was able to get out of bed and go back to school, everyone was saying that Alex only dated me because he wanted attention. We didn't care as long as we were together. After high school, we decided that we wanted to be together for longer, so we went to the same college and got married after that. When we both were 27, we decided that we wanted a baby. We ended up getting a boy, and 2 years later he got a sister. They both were normal, healthy children. Or so we thought. When my son was in fifth grade, he got anxiety attacks, but he never told anyone because he didn't want to put the load on them. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He snapped when a kid was bullying him. He broke the bully's arm and cursed him out. 3 years later, when he was in 8th grade, I found cuts on his wrists. It was the worst thing to ever find out as a mother. Finally, he really lost his shit. I went to the grocery store to get some food for dinner that night, and when I came back I found him hung in his closet.
The end
