Something Worth Living For

Inspired by 'Another Last Goodbye', a screenplay by Prodigy.

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3. Two

 

Another day or two passes before both girls find themselves awake together again. Regan passes her time watching reruns of sitcoms and scribbling in her notebook while Blair flips through magazines.

           

When Regan wakes up to find Blair’s gaze resting on her, she smiles. The dark-haired girl smiles back, tentatively at first, but she’s quick to hide it.

           

“So, how old are you?” Regan asks, forcing herself to sound cheerful.

 

The reply is blunt. “Eighteen.”

 

Regan raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “You can drive, then?”

 

“Yeah? Why?” Another blunt response, accompanied by a thorough inspection of the bandages adorning her wrists.

 

“No reason.” Regan twirls a strand of her hair between her fingertips. “So, how long are they keeping you in this place?”

 

The dark-haired girl furrows her brow as she tries to remember what the nurse told her. “Another day or two, I think.”

 

“Lucky.”

 

“What about you?”

 

The blonde smiles wryly. “I try not to think of that.”

 

Blair’s cheeks burn red. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s alright. I try not to, but it always ends up happening.” Regan turns towards the window, looking out at the cars parked outside. “I wish the view was better.”

 

The silence between them barely lasts a few seconds before Regan speaks again. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

Blair hesitates, then shrugs. “Sure.”

 

“Do you still want to die?”

 

The silence between them is tense. Regan begins to pick at the hem of her blanket, instantly regretting her words. Blair looks away. The vague sounds of a sitcom rerun on the TV fills the air.

 

When Blair replies, it’s barely audible. “Not here.”

 

“So you understand me.”

 

“What?”

 

Regan turns, her eyes strong in comparison to her frail body. “I don’t want to die here, either.”

 

“Who says… You’re not-”

 

Regan cuts her off with a humourless laugh. “I’m just being realistic. I can feel it. I’ve made my peace with it, but I just don’t want to die here.” She gestures wildly at the room. “Not with this machine beeping and these stupid florescent lights. Not with hundreds of different drugs making everything fuzzy.” She pauses as she looks outside the window again. “I want to go outside one more time. I want fresh air. I want the stars.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Blair feels stupid saying the words, but there’s nothing else she can say.

 

Regan shakes her head frantically. “I didn’t tell you that because I want your pity. I want your help.”

 

Blair looks wary, but allows her to continue.

 

“I’m sorry to ask you this. I mean, I hardly know you, but there’s no one else to turn to. My family would never help me. The nurses won’t. You’ll be gone soon, and I’ll miss my chance, and I don’t know if I’ll even have another roommate after you. So, I’m sorry, and this is a huge favour, so you’re free to say no.”

 

“What do you need?”

 

“I need you to help break me out of here. Take me somewhere where I can die in peace.”

 

“You mean help you commit suicide.”

 

Regan looks pointedly at the bandages on Blair’s wrists, an eyebrow raised. She feels a sense of pity bubbling up, but she forces it to stay restrained. “You understand.”

 

Blair frowns, thinks for a moment, debating all the possible outcomes of the situation. If she helps, Regan will die in peace, but Blair could get caught for sneaking her out the hospital and helping her kill herself. If she doesn’t help, Regan will die anyway, but not on her own terms. The decision is a lot easier to make than she wanted. “Alright, I’ll help you, but on one condition.”

 

The blonde’s smile is genuine, wide and showing all of her teeth. There is a hint of a laugh in her voice “Whatever I, a dying girl, can give you, sure.”

 

“Let me go with you.”

 

The laugh vanishes. “Go…” Clarity dawns. “Oh. I suppose that’s your decision. But are you sure that’s what you really want?”

 

Blair nods confidently. “Yes.”

 

Regan’s smile is grim. “Then we have a deal.”

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