the friend leaned far back in the chair. he had picked himself up from the ground and made his way over to the hospital room. he wanted, needed, to see his friend again. he didn't care that he was still soaking wet.
friend: when you wake up, will you remember what happened? will you remember how it happened?
he looked at his friend, hoping to find a sign, an expression, a movement of the hand. but it didn't happen. he closed his eyes, rubbing them and frowned. it stayed silent for a while. his friend's hair had grown back more and the bandages had been removed, only scars remaining over his body, crooked and pink. yet there was no sign of motion.
it stayed quiet for a while and when the friend finally spoke, his words were nothing more than a whisper.
friend: it should've been me in that bed. not you.
YOU ARE READING
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄
Short Storyan almost decade old story. * "one tragedy changed their lives." a story with dialogues and minimal description, in which a boy ends up in the hospital after a car accident and his friend slowly collapsing under the weight of his tortured mind. but...
