I tried to comfort her, I truly did, but I did not feel the loss she felt. I was not seeing the things she saw.
She fell against me, a mass of tears and wails. She was a mess, wrecked by the accident, left to pick up the shattered pieces from where they lay.
Someone ran towards us; from where I do not know. I could see the scene playing out in his eyes; I could see the shock and anguish as his face betrayed him. He crept slowly towards us, ignoring the battered bodies remaining in the wreck.
He tried to soothe her, but she was beyond help. Her cries had risen to nightmarish screams, her bleeding hands now beat against her head. Briefly, his eyes caught mine, but regained their original path to the destruction. He stood, glanced at her, and walked over.
I too stood up. Her grief was beyond me and I could no longer help.
A new sound broke through the air. The man�s tears fell from his eyes, leaving a liquid trail running down his smooth face. He pulled out a mobile from his pocket, but failed to immediately press the numbers. His eyes remained on the wreck.
The other driver was trapped in his seat, unable to move. He was an old man, which made it harder to tell whether or not he still lived. His hair was glued together by the dark blood; blood which matched the dark stains on the windshield.
At least he didn�t have a passenger; for only the driver�s side still existed. I hoped he was still breathing.
With a deep breath, our eyes turned to the other car wrapped around the tree. The driver�s side remained unscathed; after all, she�d been in no danger. But the passenger whose side had smothered itself around the tree was bloody and twisted. Somehow, the body had remained intact.
We both knew that life no longer breathed in that car.
Trembling, he dialed the number and his voice broke through her loud screams. She was now crawling on her knees towards the car; she wanted to see her friend.
Without hesitation, he ran towards her and stopped her slow trip. They embraced each other in fear; their tears mingling.
I, too, cried, but without tears. The scene playing in front of me catapulted the truth into me, forcing me to believe.
I wanted to help him. I wanted to feel her warm embrace and tell her that everything�s all right. I needed to prove to her that I was all right.
As she haltingly told him of the events which led to this point, I returned to the cars. I didn�t want to remember.
I stood there; I don�t know how long. With the sounds of an ambulance coming, her cries increased. Slowly, he released himself from her grasp so that one of us was capable of greeting the emergency crew.
Without a word, they jumped out, rushing to her, rushing to the cars. Suddenly, the air exploded with noise; he was alive, they needed to get him out.
She was slowly led past me, practically carried by the ambulance driver. A police car showed up. Shaking their heads at the scene, they ran over to the man to determine exactly what had occurred here.
Everyone ignored me. As I continued to cry, I crept closer to her car. All of a sudden, I was filled with the need to know if it was true or if there was still hope.
Then, I stopped.
I silently watched as they leaned over my battered body and shook their heads. I watched as one grabbed a blanket while the other commented on the dreadful loss of life. Numb, I watched them struggle to rescue the other driver; struggle to clear the scene.
The ambulances drove away, taking our bodies.
I stood there, alone.
The End.
