Last to Know Chapter 17 Pt. 2

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Chapter 17- pt. 2-

I woke up slowly but surely, my head aching and my stomach churning. Jill, the last person I'd ever wanted to see, sat in the chair next to the bed. I was reminded of the time after my coma, when we kissed passionately on the bed.

Just because I thought that, my head churned even more. She saw my eyes moving and stood. "You're up." She said plainly.

I couldn't say anything.

"I'll go get the doctor. And there's some thing you should know." She paused. Her eyes filled with tears, and she clasped her head in her hands.

"You killed... my brother." And then she turned and practically ran out of the room.

I was too disoriented to understand the words, but I did know I'd made the mistake of going out. I knew it was immoral and against the law to drink and drive. And I think I'd known that even before I'd done it.

But I'd still done it.

I'd risked my life, and Dakota's, and he had died because of it.

And the consequences...well, that's why I'm here in jail.

I lie in the bed, feeling alone, sick from a hangover, and suffering of a broken heart. There was nothing to do about it. I couldn't turn back time, plead to anyone, and I had no case.

I'd gone out, drank, and then got behind the wheel. And I'd lost one of my friends because of it.

The agony, the irony, and the guilt made me begin to cry.

And in walked the doctor. He stared at me, thinking. Finally he spoke. "We're going to send you home. The only injuries you have are your broken arm and leg." He pointed to my casts.

"Okay." I said. They packed me up, got me a wheelchair, and Jill wheeled me out to the car.

"I'm...disgusted, Aaron." She said while helping me in.

"I know."

"You know? Well, I don't think you do. You killed Dakota. You're due in court next week."

I said nothing, just looked at her for a moment, trying to hate her, and failing.

"Aaron. I don't think you understand. You were speeding. You killed Dakota, and another stranger. You're being charged with two counts of DUI manslaughter."

James, there is nothing I can do that will ever take it back. You have no idea how much I want to take it back; how much I long for your wife to be in my arms again. For Dakota to be alive and breathing. For these fifteen years of my life back.

I could just keep listing things that I want.

1. For Jill to be happy.

2. To go to college.

3. To have kids.

And the list goes on and on and on. But I can't take any of it back. I'm forty three, writing uselessly to you from a jail cell, crying over this letter.

I hope you see the tears stains on it, and try to understand.

The week passed by slowly. I moved back in with my aunt, and she cried as she unpacked my things.

Jill wanted nothing to do with me. She had to testify in court, and so did I. That will probably be the last time I see her before I go to jail, I thought as I lay on the bed in my old room.

In any event, I was not too exited about going to court. It was obviously in my best interest to tell the truth, but I couldn't really lie, anyway. The evidence against me was pretty clear, considering I was knocked unconscious in the accident. The police found me, taped me up, and when I woke, I was about to take a drug test.

There's nothing short of a miracle that could save me.

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