"Remember Me, Remember Me Not"
MaKayla paced back and forth in the hospital waiting room. "I hit someone. I can't believe I hit someone," kept running through her head like a church bell ringing through a town for what seemed a million times after the initial strike. She swore that she hadn't seen the guy. Not when it was pitch black and the middle of the night.
It was as if the guy appeared out of thin air, like a suicidal deer. He was crossing four lanes of traffic, and just as MaKayla's headlights had illuminated not even half of his body - it was too late. She hit him and his body collided with her windshield, cracking it.
Makayla didn't know if she remembered right, but she could have sworn when their eyes locked, the guy was smiling.
Smiling like he wanted to get hit.
As crazy as it sounded, MaKayla had hit a deer before. After five years, she could still see those spaced-out eyes staring at her as her car cracked its ribs. She went from hitting deer to a human who she believed in her gut wanted to die.
That wouldn't warm over with his family, who would probably press charges on her. Prison could now be her future, especially if the guy died.
So far, there hadn't been any news of how critical his injuries were. The last time MaKayla saw him was when the ambulance showed up. From the way his leg was turned, it was definitely broken. Blood was seeping out of his nose, so there was definitely some head trauma and maybe even internal bleeding.
MaKayla was using her obsession with the TV show House to hypothesis the damage.
Luckily for the guy, though, he was unconscious. So he didn't have to be in pain while they waited for the paramedics. She still held his hand, though, for her own sake rather than his. She already had that deer on her conscious - she didn't want a human too.
MaKayla was glad she stayed overnight at the hospital because his family hadn't shown up. She thought somebody should be there for him if his immediate family was out of town or the country. She hadn't slept an ounce and didn't even try.
For once, she didn't even need coffee to keep her awake.
She told the cops what happen the night of, so that was out of the way. She barely got through it, having been on the verge of tears the entire time. Even if it was an accident, Makayla couldn't just live her life knowing she ended someone else's.
One of her top three morals was not playing God unless she had to. If someone messed with her and she had to use her second amendment - fine. Luckily, though, it hadn't come to that, and she was hoping it never did.
When she was finished giving her statement and information, she overhead the cops saying that the guy's car was not too far from where she hit him. It was on the side of the road and in perfect condition.
That made the matter all the odder.
What would he be doing in the middle of the night, walking in the middle of the road? Something told her it was for dark, maybe even sinister reasons, but she was still doing her best not to assume.
By the time noon of the next day hit, her adrenaline could no longer keep her awake, and she sought out caffeine for help. She refused to sleep while the guy was fighting for his life.
Around two in the afternoon, a doctor finally came out to talk to her.
"Is he okay?"
"He's better than okay," the doctor was visibly on cloud nine. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun that had a pen stuck through it. And despite the tired bags under her eyes, her relief of saving a life gave her a certain glow.
