I’ve never liked hospitals. I don’t really think anyone does. They don’t smell natural and no one there acts natural. It’s like some supernatural place that had managed to severe itself completely from reality. Whenever you enter one, you get this feeling that’s unique to them, something you can’t feel anywhere else, and you know nothing about it except it’s not good. I don’t want to feel this as I sit next to the bed of the man I’ve almost killed.

I really wish I had a decent thing to say to this guy, something that would make it clear that I didn’t want any of this. It wouldn’t do him any good, considering he’s in a medically-induced coma, but I have to redeem myself somehow. I can’t take back what I’ve done, but I hope that if I feel sorry enough things will be okay again. I never used to understand praying all that much, but now I’m starting to, and while I don’t pray, I do think “please” over and over again.

I’m not going to jail. The car I’d been driving was stolen, and I’d somehow had enough sense to leave the scene as soon as I could. Not being cowardly, just being smart. Someone else was there, they could call 911. Besides, he couldn't be hurt that bad. I remember one time as a kid I’d been hit and got away with a broken leg. If a puny nine year could make it, a grown man would be fine. I didn’t need to feel guilty about this. It was the middle of the night, how could I have seen the guy coming?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to go to prison, I can’t.” I struggle to keep my voice as quiet as possible. “They’d find out I stole the car. They’d… they’d find out I ran away. I can’t give myself up, I can’t admit this to anyone but you. I’m so sorry.”

I check his heart monitor. It’s steady, which is all I can hope for right now. He’ll most likely have permanent injuries to his spine or brain or something, I don’t know, but I didn’t kill him. I at least have the comfort that I didn’t kill him.

“I have to go. Odds are, you have family coming, and I can’t have anyone catch me here.” It’s scary how easy it was to convince the nurses I was family. I think it was the panicking. Honestly, I’m surprised that his actual family are taking so long, and for a second wonder if he has any, or if they even care enough. It’s about then that I hear them.

There’s a wife, I think, some older woman, and other people who sound younger. Her voice is calm, but it’s a forced sort of calm, and the younger voices are scared and uncertain. I imagine her, in her 40s probably. She’s stressed out on a good day, but now she’s barely managing to stay composed, and the kids, God, I don’t even want to think about them. I don’t stop to get a good look at them before I jump out the window.

“Ow.” I groan, pleasantly surprised to discover that I’m not a pancake. My rear end is sore, but my fall from a mere two stories was broken by a bush. The pain isn’t enough that I can’t walk, but I can’t run, so I just sneak myself away from the hospital, but I want to run. I want to get away as fast as I can.

Now I just need to get home.