the failure - chapter 2

continued from last chapter.

Marcus was stunned. She wasn’t in a coma…

“Yes?” she asked again.

“Um…well…I was the one…who…y’know…” What do you say to the girl you crashed your car into? “I was the one who…crashed…into…you…”

“Crash? What crash?” she asked.

Marcus couldn’t take his eyes away from her unknowing ones. They were blue.

How could anyone forget being nearly killed? Then he grew pale. This is the ward for coma and memory loss ! She’s lost her memory!

“Oh… um, don’t worry about it…”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Marcus, and I’m sixteen.”

“Sixteen?”

“Yeah. Y’know. Sixteen years old. The big one-six. Six past the big time.” he mumbled, trying to explain how age w

“Oh… Oh yes. I remember now. Good to meet you Marcus.” The rest she mumbled, barely audible, “Let’s see. The tag on my wrist says I was born on 15/04/1993. So I turned 15 yesterday.”

“Wow. How’d you do that?” Wondering if it was irony or sarcasm, that the world had made her birthday the same as his.

“Do what?”

“Those sums. I can’t even remember my tables.”

“Tables?”

“I mean times tables. You know. Multiplication.”

“Yes. Multiplying. I remember that.”

“So… Have your family visited yet?”

“Do you mean that woman, who called herself my mother?”

“Uh… I guess so…”

He studied her for a while. She had black hair, brown eyes, and she was probably Eurasian. Subconsciously, without knowing it or admitting it, he had made a friend in the girl he nearly killed.

On the way out, a kindly looking old man holding a form of some sort, and in doctor’s clothes came up to him and asked: “Do you know-" he glanced at the form in his hand, "Mai Nguyen?"

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good. I want you to help her regain her memory.”

“Me? Why me!?”

“You were the driver, yes?”

“Yes… Listen, I’m already on probation, but the judge can’t make a decision, until-”

“Until she regains her memory.” The doctor finished.

“You know? Then why do you want me?”

“Because, I have a feeling that her mother – which is her only family – doesn’t really care for her. Her mum seems like a f****t to me. She came in earlier, and told the nurse to get lost, and left after two minutes.”

“But why me?”

“Because you have already made a mental connection with her. After you left, she was asking when ‘Marcus’ would come again. When asked who Marcus was, she said the boy with black hair who visited just then. You are Marcus, am I correct?”

Marcus decided not to lie, because the doctor seemed to have eyes which penetrated into his mind, and could see every detail of his failure of a life. He remembered a phrase he had heard that described this man entirely. Eyes as sharp as an eagles...

“Yes. I am.”

“Good. Also, I have a feeling that the judged would look kindly on the boy who helped his victim.”

And with that, Marcus left the hospital, and out onto the street.

“Where to boss?” asked the taxi driver.

The taxi was disgusting as taxis go. The carpet was ripped out to reveal the metal underneath. The chairs had lost their stuffing a while ago, and the inside smelled like beer, urine and twelve years worth of sexual activity.

But the taxi drive was an old accomplice of Marcus's drug dealer dad. He was about 30 years old, had a little moustache, and sounded Italian, even though Marcus knew for a fact that the driver’s name was Harold, not Luigi, and he was actually British.

“My home please.”

“No problemo bossman.” Said ‘Luigi’. Even though he was British, years of living in Italy had darkened his skin, and given him some permanent stubble on his chin, making him fit perfectly into the stereotype of an Italian.

As the world passed by him outside, he thought about his life for the first time since he had been first been given a charge.

He had just passed year 8. He had struggled to keep up in year 9. The principle had offered him some extra learning to catch up in year 10, and now here he was. In year 11. Failing gradually, and looking like a drop out.

Outside, he looked like a hood, not caring for anyone in the world, smoking cigarettes and behaving like an a*****e. But inside, he was secretly sad about his life. He was dissapointed at his own grades, crushed when his mum left, and now this. There was nothing better for him in this world.

Why was I born, simply to fail? This thought had bugged him ever since he was mature enough to think that he was an idiot.