His car, my second life

Alia Mormon is freshly out of Coleman University after college, and she is looking for job opportunities everywhere. But it is not easy at all. For three months straight, her mornings started the same way. Wake up at 6am. Make tea for her mom, Garcia. Sit at the small kitchen table with her cracked laptop. Send out 10 applications. By noon, the rejection emails would start rolling in. "We regret to inform you..." "We have decided to move forward with other candidates..." "Thank you for your interest..." Twenty-seven times. Twenty-seven versions of "no." She wonders to herself, "What could possibly be the problem? Am I not fit for the position? Is it my CV? My interview?" She really needs the job to support her family, especially her mom, Garcia, who dedicated everything she had to support Alia's education. Garcia worked five jobs just to keep them afloat and put food on the table — cleaning offices at night, selling food in the morning, doing laundry on weekends. After all that struggle, Alia finally graduates. It is a dream come true. The day of her graduation, Garcia cried more than Alia did. She held Alia’s face and said, "This is for all of us, my daughter. You’re going to change our story." Alia promised her, "Mama, the moment I get a job, I’ll make sure all your effort doesn’t go to waste. I’ll get you the care you need. I’ll get Camilla into the best school." But with each rejection, that promise felt heavier. She begins to feel very discouraged and completely breaks down. That night, she sits on the edge of her bed and hugs her pink silk pillow. The pillowcase is faded from how many times she’s cried into it. She cries until her chest hurts, until there are no more tears, only hiccups. Then her phone begins to ring. The screen lights up: `Camilla ❤️` She hurriedly picks up the call. Her sister’s voice is shaking. "Alia? Alia, it’s Mama. She collapsed this evening. The clinic said she needs medicine and tests. They said if she is not treated on time, she might not make it. They need payment by tomorrow." The words hit Alia like a punch. She has almost nothing in her account. "Okay. Okay, Camilla. I’ll figure something out," Alia whispers, but her voice cracks. She ends the call and stares at the wall. The ceiling fan spins slowly above her. The room is quiet except for the sound of her own breathing. She walks to the balcony. The night air is cool on her face. Three floors down, the street is empty. Her thoughts are loud. _I failed her. I promised. And now I have nothing._ In so much pain and agony, Alia climbs onto the railing and jumps. For one second, there is only air. Then impact. Pain. And then nothing. --- She wakes up hearing a very annoying beep sound. Beep... beep... beep. It drills into her head and gives her an instant headache. She tries to move and her whole body aches. She stretches her hand to grab anything, and something drops to the floor with a clatter. An alarm clock. She opens her eyes. White ceiling. White walls. The smell of disinfectant. She is in a hospital. Her throat is dry. Her left arm is wrapped in bandages. There’s an IV in her right hand. Minutes after she wakes up, a nurse in a blue uniform rushes in. "She’s awake! Doctor!" The nurse checks Alia’s pulse, then her eyes. "You’re lucky, young lady. Very lucky. People don’t usually survive falls from that height." Alia’s voice comes out hoarse. "What... what happened?" The nurse softens. "Thank God the young man was there. Otherwise..." "Which man?" Before the nurse can answer, the door opens again. A tall young man walks in. He’s maybe 27. Dark hair, a bit messy. He has a bandage on his forehead and a sling on his left arm. He looks tired, but his eyes are kind. He stops when he sees her awake. The nurse smiles. "This is Mr. Alexander. He’s the reason you’re here talking to me." Alexander shifts awkwardly. "I... I’m glad you’re okay." Alia frowns, confusion cutting through the pain. "You?" He nods and sits in the chair beside her bed. "I was driving home from work. Around 11:40pm. I turned onto your street and... I saw you. I tried to swerve, but I couldn’t. The front of my car hit you right as you landed. The impact threw me into the airbag too." Alia begins to sob. The memory comes back in pieces. "Why did you push me? Why did you push me?" The words come out broken, like she’s accusing him of something. Alexander looks startled. "I didn’t push you. I tried to stop." The doctor walks in then, a middle-aged woman with glasses. She checks Alia’s chart. "Alia, are you okay? Do you remember what happened?" And Alia loses it. Everything spills out. The rejections. Her mom. Camilla. The payment that was needed. The promise she made. "I thought... I thought if I was gone, maybe it would be easier for them. No more burden." The room goes quiet. The beeping of the monitor is the only sound. The doctor kneels to meet Alia’s eyes. "Listen to me. No matter what you’re going through, you should never take your own life. There are people who need you in this world. Your mom needs you. Your sister needs you. And we’re going to help you get through this, okay?" Alia closes her eyes. Tears run down her temples. Then she remembers Camilla’s voice on the phone. _They need the payment by tomorrow._ She takes a shaky breath and opens her eyes. She looks at the doctor and manages a small smile. "Thank you." The doctor squeezes her hand. "I’m not the one to be thanked. You should thank the young man for saving you." Alia turns to Alexander. He’s watching her carefully, like he’s afraid she’ll break. "Thank you," she whispers. "For... for not letting me go." Alexander gives her a warm, tired smile. "Just get some rest, Alia. You need to get well soon. Okay?" She nods. For the first time in months, she doesn’t feel completely alone.