Most prototypes do not make it to production.

Why is there white light everywhere? Where am I? Why am I alive? I looked to the left to find a small table with a telephone. It was wired. Why was it so old and pathetic. I looked further and saw a bed. The bed was very neat except well, there was a human sized bump underneath the covers. It was not moving. It was lying as if it was getting ready for an autopsy, with its face and belly pointing to the sky. It had a large belly as well as thick thighs and arms too. "Eww... a nasty fat person." I thought.

I looked around. A TV hanging from the ceiling, that oppressive, bleak white lighting, everything was very organized. A bathroom connected to the room, and a large door blocking the room from the rest of the world. “I'm in a hospital... this is bad.” I looked at both my wrists. Yep deep cuts parallel to my arm were there. “I lost so much blood how am I alive”. A transfusion, more blood, entering me? "Oh nasty, another person's blood, what if it was a man's blood oh god." I looked to my left realizing how eerie the body lying in the bed next to me was.
“Why would they put this big man's body in my hospital room.” God I hated men. They were so unrefined, so gruesome, and most of all so damn sure of themselves. They were okay with being so nasty it was despicable. “Oh god... please don't let that man's blood be in me.” I thought.

Then it dawned on me truly, I was alive. It came like an earthquake. My death was stopped, by this man possibly. This man gave me a transfusion and it killed him. I panicked what if it was someone I knew, someone I cared about. I looked at the lump analyzing its structure. No, I don't know anyone that shape. The tubes they stuck in me were beginning to irritate me. I wanted to take them off and get out of there but knew I couldn't.
I forced myself to think nothing of the current situation and go to sleep. It was so hard. All I could think about was him. Looming over me being better than me, rejecting me. I felt so feeble; he made me feel that way, that bastard. Then there is my family, so distant, yet so demanding. Why do they want me to be so much do so much all the time. Can't they see I am a loser. I can't tell them, not directly, but likely they have been told of this event and I'll see them soon. They will know how much of a loser I think I am.

A nurse woke me up. A male nurse. He was so dainty, so feminine, it was disgusting, harden up I thought to myself. I could see through him. I could tell why they sent him in, he was supposed to be the super nice guy, the one someone who tried what I did would open up to or something. Yeah fuck that.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes. I'm fine.” I looked away from him.
“Well, you are lucky you were found when you were. A policeman saw you in the middle of the street.”
“Whats with that... corpse?”
“He, he was a convict. He raped someone, someone younger than you.” I could tell he did not like that man.
“Well so why is he in this room.”
“Well, maybe to make himself look better in front of god in his last moments, he saved you. He was caught already. He was going to go away for a long time, but then he did this. The guy tried to run by doing this.”
I found it annoying how hard this nurse was trying to lessen this man. I said nothing though, but maybe he could tell by my face, even though I was trying to hide all expression.
“You, want to know his name?” asked the nurse.
“Sure.”
“Benjamin Farwood. Here I'll write it on this paper.”
“Thanks.”
Silence overcame our conversation for a brief moment.
“Don't feel bad, this guy wasn't a good guy. This isn't going to make up for what he did either.”
I said nothing.
“Okay well, sorry this is a lot to take in, I'm going to leave now, if you need anything ring the buzzer. I'll be back later today to talk with you more.”
The guy left and it was only when he left that I realized I wanted, practically needed, to know if my relatives were notified, or if anyone I knew, knew I was here, but it was too late.
I spent a lot of time pondering the events that led to this. Why did anyone ever think anything of me. Why did it feel like the world was always on my shoulders. I knew why though so its weird that I kept pondering. I'm chinese. For some ridiculous reason my classmates think I know all the answers, my parents think I will be something great some day. Really my only guess is that my peers do this because I'm asian and I have a clean organized look about me. Does that matter though, does the straightness of my hair, or the pristine pressed nature of my clothing really warrant such expectations. Hell no it doesn't. Fuck people, this is why I hate people.

I watched TV. “God why is television so bad. With all those writers in the world dieing to be famous and rich why isn't every script chosen good. Another reason to hate people.” Eventually the nurse came in. It was a different person, a woman. I found it amusing that the previous guy practically lied about coming to see me again.
“Hello! How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Yes, I mean fine.”
“Good, there are painkillers by your bed so if you feel terrible just take a single tablet. You can take more but your body will just pee them out and it will be a waste.”
Heh guess you can't give dangerous painkillers to suicidals. I was about to think they were retarded when I heard painkillers. I also found it interesting that it was so obvious she was trying to tell me I can't use them to kill myself. What a terrible attempt at being subtle.
“So... when can I get out of here?” I asked.
“Tomorrow, actually!”
“Wow that soon?”
“Well, this hospital has a lot of need because of this area. We need to clear the rooms as fast as we can.” I found it stupid that even though they need rooms and open spots they haven't taken away that dead guy out of this room yet and put in a patient.
“Okay. Awesome!”
“Your parents were called about an hour ago, they didn't pick up so we emailed them. Also here is your phone it was handed in earlier today by a police officer.”
“Thank you.”
“Well do you need anything else?”
“No, thank you though.”
The nurse smiled and left. Screw that slut. I could tell because of her attractiveness she had it made. She seemed so content, I bet she had a man, a man that was probably her slave practically. Why are men so stupid, why would you ever obey someone just because its pretty. It makes no sense.
A few minutes later some men took away the body of that guy.

After they left I used my phone to access my parent's voicemail. I deleted the messages from the hospital, and then used it to delete their emails. If only they knew I was going to one day use this smart phone against them. Foolish parents, giving me their passwords too. I couldn't help but notice that my parents are pretty nice though at that moment. “Alright, everything is going to be the same at least.” Same... if its the same well I'm going to be here again.

The next day the nurse made sure I was healthy enough to walk around and such. I seemed a little unstable but pretty fine. I had been using the bathroom these past 2 days after all. The signing out process was starting. They asked me who was picking me up, I told them a taxi. It was true.
Interesting how they would just let me walk outta here in a car with a man I don't know: me a fragile little girl who has to run on someone else's blood to live.
Eventually I was home. Shitty little apartment, uninteresting roommate. My roommate didn't even ask me if anything was wrong, she must have thought I was just gone for a few days. I was a little put off by the lack of her attention, it was though exactly what I wanted.

I woke up and looked at myself in the mirror. I pretty much looked the same and with long sleeves the bandages around my wrists were not visible. I emailed my professors. I lied. I hadn't been able to go to class for two weeks, and I said I was sick and that I could show them the hospital note. All but one just believed me, I emailed the remaining one a scan of the note they gave me. Even if I was only in the hospital for a few days, it doesn't mean I wasn't sick before hand. The professor accepted it. I didn't go back to any class anyway.

I got a letter in the mail. “I Love You, Live For Me. - Ben Farwood”. It seemed to be a letter he wrote before dieing for me. I dumped it into the corner of my room where everything else goes. What a bastard. How dare he have the nerve to try and use guilt to affect my life. Its just like a rapist to try and control you against your will even as they are dieing.
“Fuck you old man.”
“I'm not going to listen to you.”
“This is my life to do with what I please.”
“I love you? Jesus that is creepy.”
“Fuck you old man.”
“Your nothing but a rapist. A puny little man who couldn't get any with out force. Someone who didn't deserve it but took it anyway. Now you think you deserve this? You deserve to do a good deed?”

Eventually, I conceded. This fucker had effected me emotionally; I felt bad.
I felt bad about cutting my own wrists, about trying to die. Why did life have to be so complicated. I day dreamed about being in a tribal society. About being too busy and too scared to wonder about killing myself. No time to be depressed when you have to do all that manual labor all day. There lives are so set too, no insane exams that determine the rest of your life. Just do the work, don't be a bitch, let some guy you call husband fuck you and be nice to your kids and that's it. Why did we ever leave that society. Why do I ask why so much for questions that never get answered.

I walked around campus for a few days. Look at these people, these normal people. Something like this isn't even in their imagination. I saw some girl running in a panicked state. She was indian or something. She had the look of a fob, someone here only for her studies. Her jogging was so embarrassingly awkward. She must have been late to class. As she passed me she tripped. It wasn't so much I did it on purpose, it was more like I could have stopped it, could have moved my foot, but my reflexes, my body, just didn't care enough. She fell, hit her nose on the door in front of her, and ran off, saying sorry as she went by. I continued walking in that direction and noticed little tiny drops of blood trailing where she had run.

I took an antidepressant I was given upon leaving the hospital. My parents called, I guess the hospital called them to check up on me. They knew everything. I lied my ass off, said I was mugged. They are so stupid, so naive they believed me, or at least pretended they did. I had a weird feeling they were going to secretly travel here to see me, not telling me so I couldn't say no or run away. I would have been worried, but I wasn't because the antidepressant kicked in. This is what it was like: this is what being at peace was like.

I immediately realized how much better I felt. This didn't just feel like a high, this felt like a profound change in perspective. Those things I cried about seemed silly. I felt pathetic for reacting the way I did to something so silly. A pill did all this. My beliefs were so feeble a pill was enough to change them completely. I guess I was depressed for no good reason. I took the little container of pills and threw it out my window in frustration and went to sleep. How dare those pills mock my problems.

It didn't matter, the next day I still felt like a fool. I did those things, I threw away my life, I was even thinking about throwing away my second life, and the sacrifice of that man for such lowly reasons. I went to the cafeteria to eat. I had been taking food back to my room but today I ate there, my room just seemed too far away and the reasons to leave just didn't have the impact they did before. I ate there surrounded by people and yet alone. I wanted to die seeing all those people there being normal. The contrast between them and me just made me feel terrible. But eventually I just felt stupid. I was doing this for the silliest of reasons, there was no grand reason for me to hurt myself, the pills proved it. As I walked back home I saw them there lying in a bush. Innocently, loyally they stayed there unmoving like a dog who loves you. I picked up the little container, not a single pill fell out of it.

I woke up to the sun blaring at my eyes. It was like a siren. “Oh god, I just want to sleep.” I thought as I checked my phone for the time. Five minutes before my alarm would have gone off. I got up. I don't know how I did it, my body just moved somehow even though I was only half conscious. A few minutes later my teeth were brushed, my cloths were on, and there was one less pill in that container. It had been many weeks since the incident. There was a test today for my first class of the day. A feeling of fear and anticipation gripped me as I went over my notes one last time in the cafeteria. Hamburger in one hand worn out pages in another. I felt confident, but still scared. After reading over the notes I brought out flash cards I had made. “Z-formation” said one side of a card and I mentally responded “A protein structure commonly seen in the proteins for digestion, D synthesis, and the second stage of DNA replication.” I turned the card over and noticed DNA replication wasn't written on it. I knew I was right, I must have forgotten to add it to the card. I entered class, a guy was sitting next to me looking eerily still. It was obvious he was nervous. “Umm do you know what proteins are needed for the second stage of RNA replication?” he eventually asked “G12, G13, and G15” I replied. “What do those do exactly?” Before I could answer the teacher started announcing that the test was soon to be handed out and there would be no more talking. I finished the test a little early. It wasn't so bad. I was scared though that I put down the wrong unit for the last question, and would lose a point because of it.