Ben isn't mine, nor is Lindsey. I am just playing with them for the enjoyment of others3
L.A. That was the where Ben just happened to be in when he realised just how crappy he felt. He wandered the city at night, like many nights in many cities before. Everyone he passed appeared to feel the same as him, but this was little comfort really. It depressed him that his life for the past few years had become so empty. It depressed him even more that it had taken him the best part of three years to realise it. He'd just gone with the flow, not caring where it was taking him.
"I should be a doctor by now." he said to himself, louder than he intended, causing a couple of older women wearing too much make-up to look in his direction, as he thought of how his life would have played out had he made some different choices. The truth was, after being murdered, he could not face working in a hospital again. The part of him that wanted to help people must have got buried with her. Now, however, he missed that part. He wanted the purpose that it would bring his life. He wanted the human contact too. He met new people every day in the hospital, formed bonds, almost instantly in some cases. He connected with people. Not so now.
Ben continued to walk the darkened streets, not knowing to where he was walking. He realised that he needed to work; he needed his life to have a direction once more. This, he felt should have been more of a revelation, a sort of 'Eureka' moment, or there should have been some sort of epic instrumental music. He'd have settled for a light bulb atop his head, but there was none of this. Instead though, it was more of a silent resolve, almost as though he was the last one to know what he needed to do. Nevertheless, as he walked, Ben felt, well, lighter would be the term. He was going to help people again, and the timing of this decision couldn't have been better.