But Ian doesn’t answer.
The sound of sirens grows closer, and every second that it takes them to get here is another second I worry more because I don’t know what the hell is happening.
My heart beats harder, causing the blood to pulse out of me at a faster rate. I can’t do anything but watch helplessly as the literal life bleeds out of me.
A man’s face appears in the corner of my eye, crouched on the ground and staring through the broken windshield. “She’s awake,” he calls to someone before turning back to me, “I need you to try not to move.”
“Are they okay? I just need to know if they’re alive.” I choke on the words as I say them, tears start to fall as the panic threatens to rip me apart from the inside out.
He doesn’t answer me, instead, he stands up and walks away.
This can’t be how things end. I can’t die not knowing if my brother and his best friend are okay. I can’t die because the universe has decided to curse me with being completely invisible to everyone else around me.
Please, I beg whatever gods will listen,I just need to live long enough to see my brother. I’ll do anything. Name your price.
More voices say things, talking in hushed tones, so I can’t fully hear them. There are lots of footsteps and more emergency vehicles pulling up to help. Eventually, the man comes back, sliding in a little further than he was before with a neck brace in hand. “Hi sweetheart, do you think youcan put this on for me? I can’t quite reach you, and we need to make sure your neck doesn’t move.”
I sigh in relief, he didn’t leave me.
I flex my fingers towards him and grab the brace. It hurts to move, but I do my best to secure it as tightly as possible.
“That’s really good,” he tells me. “My name is Mark.”
“I’m Sasha. Can you tell me if everyone’s okay?”
“Let’s focus on you first, okay?” The smile he gives me doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and I can’t tell whether it’s because he’s too scared to tell me that there’s no one left but me, or if it’s because he thinks I’m seconds away from death. “There’s going to be a lot of scary noises, they have to cut into the car to get you out, but you’re going to be okay. I’ll be here the whole time.”
He backs away again, and just like he said, the scary noises start. It hurts my ears, the scraping against metal, and the loud sounds from the saw sound like a death sentence.
Every second that drags on is another second reality starts to creep in. I know what’s waiting for me out there, but I have to believe that everyone somehow made it anyway.
Moments later, the driver’s side door is being ripped open, and I’m pulled through it. Paramedics instantly rush to me, Mark included.
“She’s got a pretty bad contusion on her forehead, her arm too, gonna need a couple stitches,” a girl says.
“Her left ankle looks fine, probably just sprained,” another tells Mark as he slides a cardboard brace on it.
I turn my head to look at the car, hoping to see one of the guys, but what I see is earth-shattering. The car is destroyed, bent and misshapen, completely crushed.
A couple of other paramedics pull someone out the other side. They carry the limp body around towards me, and within seconds, I feel myself go completely numb.
I can’t hear anything over my own heartbeat, my body feels foreign, and the sting from the antiseptic they’re pouring on my wounds barely registers.
It’s Ian. The only recognizable thing about him is his sandy brown hair, the rest of him is… I don’t even know how to describe it. His face isn’t a face anymore, it’s a mess of crushed bone and cartilage. Blood drips down his entire body, skin torn so badly you can see the muscle underneath.
Ian was always kind to me, he was my friend, one of the only people who put in effort to get to know me.
He was one of the only people who knew I existed.
He was always so carefree, smiling and laughing like nothing could get to him.
I fucking killed him.
I watch as they walk past me with his broken body, staring even though I don’t want to. The two paramedics look like they want to puke, neither of them dares to look down at him because they know if they do, they’ll fall apart.
“Poor kid,” the female who’s wrapping a bandage around my head mumbles under her breath.
“His name is Ian,” I tell her, voice void of emotion. She nods, but doesn’t say anything else.
