The air bag never went off.
Her neck is twisted unnaturally and her hair is thick with blood that’s streaking down into her open eyes.
She’s staring straight ahead.
Her mouth is open like she’s screaming, but no sound is coming out.
Her teeth are stained red and her bottom lip is split down the middle, but she still looks beautiful.
Between her body and the steering wheel crushing her abdomen, I see her other hand curled over her stomach.
I try to pull her out, but she won’t budge. Not even an inch.
I think about all the times she would curl up next to me like a cat and rest her head in my lap.
I’m meant to protect her.
It’s my job to keep her safe.
I shouldn’t have drank tonight.
I should have been the one to drive.
My voice doesn’t work anymore so I bang on the crumpled dashboard, glass cutting up my one good hand. Once, twice, three times I pound my fist, harder each time. Then I reach out and smack her arm, anything I can do to get a response.
But she remains silent.
She doesn’t move.
I need to get to her.
I need to hold her face in my hands and tell her all the things I never said.
If I can do that, if I can promise to stop letting my mom get in my head, then we can be happy. We’ll finish school, get married, and start a family on our own. Just the two of us. No influences. Only us and what we want. If I can tell her that, then she’ll open her eyes and smile her crooked smile and everything will be alright.
I find her hand and squeeze it.
I feel for a pulse, pressing at the hollow of her wrist. I think I feel something, but it’s my own faint heartbeat, inadequately doing its job. I keep my hand there anyway so I can pretend for one more second that it’s not as bad as it is.
But there’s no life in her.
No amount of wishing or promises will bring her back.
I put my hand on her cheek and brush the matted hair from her face.
I shut my eyes and try to think of anything else, but the only thing left in my head is how her eye lashes tickled my cheek the first time we kissed…
I hold my breath, refusing to give my lungs what they need.
If she’s going, I’m going, too.
The sirens fade.
The pain wanes.
And blackness swallows me whole.
Icome back, but it’s only my brain that works.
