He felt so awful and that feeling wouldn't go away, but he earned it. Now he finally saw how much of a terrible King he was, but now it was too late. Bob, or King Bob as the childeren still called him, despite what happened. Two days has gone by since it happened and there was still no change in the situation they were in...he was in. His friend. Bob laid his head in his hands, wanting the world to become dark. It was all his fault, why didn't they hate him? The memories of the accident kept flashing before his eyes like a film played on repeat. It all started out normal and then it went wrong so quickly. The honking of the car, the screeching of the tires and then the smack. That dreadful sound. He could still hear it, but it wasn't the worst. Jordan scream was. It was filled with fear, the fear Bob felt in his body. He was thirsty and he wanted a soda from the store and since his royal adviser were walking with him, he of course told Jerome to get one for him. He was impatient, something he regretted now very much. The bossy King sounded harsh against his loyal friend, angry. He wanted that soda quickly...Well, he never got it. If he had just asked it normal, then maybe it wouldn't have happened. But it did. Bob looked up again, at the white ceiling of this cold looking place. Staff and visitors were walking past him, not paying attenion to him. They were busy. Robert knew that he had to get up and gather the courage to go into the room. He promised himself. He was the only one now, he wouldn't have to see the pain of other people in the room and knowing that he was the one who caused that pain. So, he took a deep sigh and stood up. With his heart beating heavy in his chest, he walked in the room. The beeping of the machines was now close. He was still staring at his own feet as he walked further. The Playground Ruler took a chair, almost like he was on automatic pilot and sat down. He sighed again and then finally looked up. "Hey Jerome"he greeted the boy in the bed, but he knew that Jerome didn't hear him. His left arm was in a cast laying on his chest and around his head was bandage, for the rest had he bruises. Bob looked at all the tubes that were contected to his friend. They kept him alive, with those machines. But for how long? Why didn't he just wake up. Robert wanted to order him to do so, but he knew that it would be the first time his royal adviser wouldn't listen. A tear slid down his cheeck and he was suprised. The last two days he didn't cry. Yes, he was sad and afraid, but he didn't cry. Now he did and there came more tears quickly after. They rolled over his face as he kept looking at Jerome. His friend. His adviser, lackey. One of his right hands. Fighting for his life and all just because Bob wanted a whomping soda. "Please, wake up" he whispered and laid his hand on Jerome's shoulder. "I promise I'll do better". He couldn't take more, this was enough for now. The tall boy stood up again and wiped the tears from his face. He took one last look at Jerome, who still wasn't moving and then left the room. He could only wait and hope.