Why'd You Do It? (Short Story)

Why'd You Do It?

I sat in the small room, the man with the thick glasses and wrinkled suit watching me closely. How did I land myself in here? I dunno. Bad luck. Why was it that I was brought down from a hospital room, to speak to this man? Like I said, bad luck. When the sleeping pills that you took while your mom was at work fail, you should think carefully.
"Do you think maybe it was a sign?" The man asked, sounding as if he was speaking from his nose.
I flinched, the sound of his voice making my toes curl. A sign? A sign of what?
"No."
"So you still want to die?"
Silence. He writes something down, his foot in sync with the ticking of the clock. Twenty more minutes.
"Why'd you do it?"
Ah, the question I've been waiting for. Am I going to tell him? Of course not. Why? I don't know him. Nor do I trust him. They cannot expect me to spill my secrets to this man. I refuse. So what do I do for the next twenty minutes? I wait.
"Go."
I go. I am escorted to my blank hospital room. The only thing you can hear is the ticking of the clock and the faint sobs from near by rooms. Pathetic. Everybody is pathetic. What's the point of crying? There is no point. I mentally count the days; Four months, two weeks, and five days since I last cried. What happened there? Nothing I will tell you right now. Why? It's like I said. I don't know you, so I cannot trust you.