James Zenner sat in a green chair in the Cleveland Hospital. More specifically, room 203, the room where his wife, Jessica, lies seriously injured. It's all my fault is the echoing thought that haunts his mind. He has been told by everyone that it wasn't his fault, that nothing could have been done. But still the thought managed to worm its way into his head. The thought planted its roots and slowly began taking over his mind.

The constant beeping of the heart monitor would have been a calming noise, were the situation not so dire. Instead the sound was unnerving; it reminded him that his wife could die at any moment. If the situation was not as dire, he could use the constant sound as a way to forget about the nightmare of the day.

James looked down to the ground and closed his eyes, trying to stop the white walls from getting a grip on his throat and choke the life out of him. The inner turmoil caused him to completely miss the nurse open the door and walk into the large room.

"Mr. Zenner?" the new sound pierced his thoughts like a bullet and caused him to jump slightly in surprise.

"Yes, that's me." James managed to choke out, bringing his head up to look at the nurse.

"I have brought you some spare cloths if you would like to change." James looked down and realized that his clothes were completely torn apart. Through the daze he had earlier and the turmoil he is fighting now he never realized that his clothes were torn in the accident.

"Thank you." Is all James said as he grabbed the bag of clothes and made his way towards the restroom. He quickly took off the old tattered clothes and put on the new ones the nurse brought him. James walked over to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face, hoping that when the cold water made contact with his skin he would wake up, and this would all just be a bad dream. He looked up at the mirror to inspect what else had happened to him. He noticed a couple of scratches on his torso, but nothing serious. On his face, he had scratches all over his cheek and his right eye was threatening to swell shut. His black hair was starting to become crust from the blood that has begun to dry on it.

Now dressed in suitable clothing, James made his way back to the room. When he stepped inside he saw a nurse talking to a police officer. As soon as the door opened the nurse began walking over to James.

"Mr. Zenner, I need you to sign this." The nurse handed him a clipboard and a pen. "Your wife is in critical condition, without surgery she will surly die. Unfortunately, I can't guarantee that surgery will save her life, but it is the only chance she has." For James the answer is obvious, he quickly jots down his signature and takes a seat, as they wheel his wife away to surgery.

"Mr. Zenner, I know you just want to rest and be able to wrap your head around this but I need to know exactly what happened, starting with your full name please."

James let out a loud sight and said. "James Alex Zenner."James could hear the pen tap as the officer began writing down his name.

"How exactly did the crash happen?"

"I was driving back from her mom's house, and we were arguing about, I don't even remember, I turned to say something to her and I missed that someone swerved into my lane and I crashed head on into him. If I was just paying attention, all of this could have been avoided." James put his head into the palms of his hands and let the fresh tears fall for what seems like the hundredth time that day.

"Sir, I understand that this is hard for you, but it really wasn't you fault, yes, you should have been paying more attention to the road, but the other man was over two times the legal limit. The only way this could have been avoided is if the man wasn't drunk." James said nothing; he just stared at the ground, his mind refusing to accept that it wasn't his fault.

"Currently the man is being charged with reckless driving and a DUI. I know that it is hard, but it would really speed up the process if you were a witness."

"I don't think I can do it. I just want to be here with my family and look after my wife, if she survives." James whispered that last part to the point where it was barely audible.

"I understand, if you change your mind, here is my number." The officer tore off a piece of paper and handed it to James. "My name is Brandon Skaggs, by the way."

James nodded and took the piece of paper. Brandon left to go talk to the nurses and doctors involved with looking after Jessica. James was left alone to wait for his family, and, more importantly, wait to see if Jessica would survive.