Skin Deep

Chapter 9

Luke

            Rachel, the passenger of the car I hit is no longer in hospital herself, but she spends all day there with her husband, Curtis, as he recovers from losing both of his legs. I’ve finally worked up courage to go see them rather than asking about them to the nurses.

            Rachel looks the exact same as the night I left her crying after the doctor told her the news. I had tried to do something, anything to help, but she had just waved me off and eventually hospital security phoned my parents and had me taken away.

            I knock quietly on the door. Rachel looks up at me and her jaw drops open. She looks extremely angry, but then lets out a huge breath and waves me in. I swallow.

            “Hi, Rachel,” I say awkwardly. She looks at me confused. “Oh, I asked about you guys. I’m Luke, by the way.” I’m being so creepy and odd that I really just need to escape. I thrust out the vase of flowers I’m holding, trying to mask the awkwardness.

            Rachel kind of smiles, forcedly, but a smile none the less. “Thank you, Luke. They’re beautiful.” She takes them and places them on Curtis’ bedside table. Silence fills the room.

            “So, um…” I say, trying to break the silence. Rachel stares at me blankly, void of emotion. Curtis stirs in his sleep. I can see little humps under his covers where legs should be. I shudder and take a deep breath.

            “Rachel, I…” I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know why I’m here. Not even just in this room, but still here on the planet. I should be dead and Curtis should have both of his legs. What do I say to this woman? I’ve probably literally destroyed her life, not to mention her husband’s life. I’ve placed a strain on their relationship, likely ended his career, and made at least two people extremely sad. I am a terrible human being. I really, truly just suck.

            “I wish it were me instead of him,” I say at last, my tone serious and my voice catching on the tears that threaten to escape.

            Rachel gasps, but says nothing. She wishes it were me, too.

            I add, “I’m serious. I wish it was me. It was my fault; you did nothing to deserve this. I deserve to be dead.” I sniffle loudly. “On second thought, I deserve to live in guilty torment. Death would be an easy escape.” My voice carries distain towards myself.

            “Son, please don’t talk like that,” A weak voice calls softly from the bed. Rachel rushes over, “Curtis, honey! How do you feel?”

            Curtis moves around a bit and stretches. “I feel thoroughly disgusting.” Then he laughs. “Oh well.”

            I look at him curiously. He seems to be just fine. Has he noticed his legs, or lack thereof? Rachel seems to be wondering the same thing. She starts to tell him, “Dear, about that-”

            Curtis looks down suddenly and notices his leg stubs. His eyes get really wide, and he reaches forward slowly. He sort of rubs his leg stubs, and I see his eyebrows furrow together. Curtis seems to be stifling a groan, when suddenly he bursts out laughing. “Now wait just a minute,” he says between giggles. “Am I missing something?” Curtis continues to laugh until there are tears streaming down his face. I smile awkwardly.

             A doctor appears at the door and whispers something to Rachel about strong doses of medicine making people a bit loopy. The doctor then moves around the bed, checking charts and talking softly to Curtis. I cringe. Just wait until he actually realizes what he’s missing. Rachel looks at me a little coldly, but manages a weak smile.