Trevor
She looked at me, and she talked to me. She hated me. I saved her life, when she wanted to die. Most people I could figure out. I was beginning to think she's impossible. "Sorry for that, then," I said, my voice like ice. I looked out the window - a lovely view of the brick wall of the building next door. "I didn't realize that saving you was a bad thing.
Figuring she had nothing more to say to me, and I nothing to say to her, I turned to leave. I half-hoped that she would have something to say, and half-hoped she'd let me leave. It was awkward, standing in a room with someone who hates you, even if you did just save their life.
"Why did you save me?" Her voice was quiet, just like the first time I heard her. I turned around, so I could answer her. She was staring at the floor now, taking care not to look at me.
"I don't know," I whispered, then left. I couldn't tell her the real reason, that I saved her because I loved her. I'd seen her around for years, so the nurse didn't need to tell me her name. Her family lived down the street from mine for years. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I knew that if I stayed here any longer, I'd go insane. I left the hospital, and went home.
It was almost light, so my father was already home. Sure enough, the kitchen light was on, so I knew he was waiting up for me. Did I dare tell him about what happened? Did I take a chance and tell them the truth?
I took a deep breath, and then headed into the house. Both my father and my brother were waiting up, sitting at the table, steaming mugs in their hands. As they both looked up at me, I saw the disappointment in their eyes. I sat down to tell them the whole story.
