Guilt

I stared at the rain and wondered why did I get into this situation? Why had I been so stupid and not listened to my gut like any decent human? Why did I accept the invitation to this party? And why did I allow my friend to drive me back home when he was clearly not sober? This is all my fault. I buried my face in my hands as I heard the roaring sound of the ambulance, police, and fire trucks. I didn’t lift my head as paramedics picked me up and put me on a stretcher and even when they carried the stretcher into the ambulance. Then everything went black.

I woke up after a very long time, everything ached but the only thing that mattered was if my friend Andrew was okay or even alive. He hadn’t put on a seatbelt even when I had told him to do so, so many times.

 My head hurt after thinking about this for a while and I got tired and went back to sleep but was soon awakened by nightmares; I screamed. A nurse hurriedly entered my room and shot a sleeping medicine into my arm, I quickly drowsed off. My days were like this for a week or so I actually really didn’t count them; but after the first week my family visited me, they were all crying, including my Dad and it just made me feel so disgusted with myself, if I had only been smart this would have not happened. The doctors and nurses soon led them out saying that I was getting overwhelmed; but thankfully they let my older sister Andrea stay she actually had not been crying to obviously.

“Hi, Andrea.” I said meekly; she probably would give me a rant of how foolish I was but surprisingly she didn’t, instead she hugged me, and didn’t say anything; after this went on for about five minutes she let go of me and sat down on my bed.

“Shila, I was so scared. Thank goodness you only broke your leg and had to get ten stitches on your arm.” she said.

“Andrea have you ever felt horrible guilt before?” I asked her.

“No never, actually maybe when I broke Grandma’s heirloom but I got over it the next day. Is that how you are feeling, this entire time after the accident?”

“Yes, this entire miserable week and a half. All I care about is knowing that Andrew is alive or dead.” 

“That’s not healthy at all, Shila. To feel so guilty, it’s not. It’s not really your fault entirely. You went to a party and there was alcohol, and you knew there was going to be but you still went that was a mistake, you got a ride from someone that you knew was not fully sober. But it’s also

Andrew’s fault he actually drank you didn’t, he was the driver, and he didn’t wear a seatbelt. So you both are to blame.”

I knew she was right, she was almost always right, and I did really want to believe her but their was a side of me that still believed that it was my fault.

“Andrea is it normal for someone to feel really guilty after a bad situation?”

“Yes, it is very normal for someone to feel very guilty after a difficult, tragic, or scary situation.”

Then a nurse entered the room, she told my sister to leave since I had to rest or something. This nurse seemed different than the others, the other nurses asked a lot of questions, but this one was pretty quiet and she was also much younger and looked like she was just out of Nursing School. 

She quietly closed the blinds and then stopped and turned around and looked at me.

“Hi, I’m Anise I will be your nurse for your last two days here at the hospital.” she said cheerily.

“Hi Anise, my name is Shila.” I said.

She didn’t seem to hear me but kept talking.

“I have some good news to tell you, you should have been told this days ago but finally you are being told. Andrew is safe, he suffered from some injuries including a concussion but he is doing much better now; I’m not supposed to tell you this but I felt you deserved to know since I noticed that you seemed so worried.” She said.

I stared at her with surprise and then my face broke into a smile. Andrew was alive, injured but alive. Thank goodness! I felt a sense of peace, I felt relaxed for the first time in days.

“Thank you, thank you!” I said over and over again.

Anise gently patted my arm and said.

“I didn’t do it, God did.

The End


Published by theworksofadreamer

I'm a young blogger who dreams a lot. http://theworkofadreamer.com

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