There had been few occasions in which he had been certain he was about to die. Three occasions to be exact. The first was five years ago, when he had been invited to go out to sea on a sail with one of his rich friends. They had been out all day drinking and partying, but then the night came and so did the storm. A storm so heavy that it rocked the boat back and forth. A storm so heavy that it tipped the boat. He had survived with only the sound of rain hitting the water. He never heard the hallow screams of his sicken friend.

The second time was three years ago at an amusement park. He had entered with a group of six. They all enjoyed the food and rides until right before closing. They decided to ride the Farris wheel one last time. Two to a seat they went round and a round. They laugh as if was the last time they would. He sat alone for there was an uneven number of people. When the ride ended he was at the bottom. He was the first to get off. The last one to live. Just as he had gotten off the ride made a loud sound, a scream almost then it collapsed. He had been the only survivor of that horrific accident, getting away with only a scratch on his cheek creating my a flying piece of debris.

The third time was when he was home, all alone. He is staying far away from any people, to afraid of the consequences that would come if he dared. He was laying in his bed pondering. Thinking of the things in his head. It’s been years yet he can’t process what actually happened. He thinks both the accidents are his fault. He was there and he survived while they died. He was there and he’s alive. The world is unfair taking them away while he has to stay and suffer this guilt. He rubs his cheek where a scar had formed, a small tear rolls down his face. He stood and walked towards the kitchen. He grabbed a cup of water and a pill bottle.

The next time he was seen was by a doctor in a hospital. He was put on watch. He was not alone. Not alone for now. There are so many accidents that can happen in a hospital.