FIFTEEN MINUTES REMAINING

iv. If you were given a second chance,
you'd turn right and never meet her.

true (_) : false (_)

They met underneath a streetlight. She was awaiting for the green guy to pop up on the screen before her to signal her to begin walking when a tired looking boy walked up behind her. His hands were stuffed in his sweatshirt pockets while a hat held his hair back. The bags underneath his eyes dug deep as his lips were chapped against each other.

She looked back at him before looking forward, looking back at the screen. The red hand still was frozen on the screen, confusing the girl in front of himself. "Did you press the button?" he asked, his voice rough and heavy. She turned to face him, nodding her head in response, "only once though," she answered.

A sigh fell from his lips as he turned his hand into a ball, his knuckles turning white as his nails dug into his palms. He hit the button and looked back up at the red hand staring back at him. Waiting a couple minutes, he pressed it again, and again, and again. Still, even with the slight yell of his voice, the red hand laughed back at the two idiots across the road.

"Come on," he grabbed her hand and ran for it, her following close behind. With cars hitting the brakes unexpectedly at the two, she thought for sure this would be the day she died; all thanks to the idiot pulling her behind him. "Oh my go-" her loud scream was cut off as the boy pushed her in front of him, her landing quite hard against the sidewalk. The car that came close to hitting them stopped completely in spot, only centimeters away from hitting him.

He waved to the person sitting in the car and slightly bowed with a smirk on his face before walking to where the girl was brushing off her pants. "Thanks," she muttered, "you could've just killed the both of us," him laughing in response.

From that day on, she always joked about how they could've pulled a Romeo and Juliet love story by dying right there with each other. She basically joked about the future, he thought. "We died the night I told her I didn't love her anymore. The heavy feeling in our chests was as if I took the blade myself and ended us both. Detaching what we used to have," the doctor let him finish what he was writing, "fifteen minutes left, sir," he nodded before the doctor went back to whatever he was trying to accomplish.

"Never meet her," he mouthed, reading the question to himself. His eyebrows scrunched together as he stared at the question, "never meet her," he thought once more before checking off false. "She was the best thing that ever happened to me," he wrote more sloppy then before, his hand starting to pulse from the amount of pain it felt, "I was just the one who had to ruin it."