Don't tell me

Jared's emotions churn within him and he doesn't even realize that he's unfolded his arms, his fingers gripping his bedspread in a fist. His jaw muscles tighten and loosen over and over as his inner tension continues to rise. He wanted to believe Grace. He wanted to accept what she said. He wanted to feel good instead of bad. But he'd been knocked down too far. And at Grace's final statement, he erupts.

"I wasn't a jerk!" he snaps. "I was worse than a jerk! You have no idea what kind of person I was, so don't tell me what I can be or what doesn't have to mold me!"

Finally lifting his eyes, he looks to Grace with a glare. But even in his angry stare, underneath there was at tremendous amount of pain. "I don't deserve a second chance," he hisses. "If you remembered what I do, you would have already gone out and gotten a shotgun to blow your brains out and be done with it. Me, I can't, 'cause I'm stuck with two legs that don't even work. So I gotta be more creative than using a gun."

A tear makes its way to the surface to trickle slowly down his cheek and his voice wavers. "I should have died in that accident. I'd rather go to hell than live here with the memories I've got now." His knuckles had turned white from gripping his blanket as he starts to shake.

"So no... don't tell me I can just change and live for today, 'cause I don't believe it. I don't want your help or anybody else's help. I just want to die like I was supposed to."