I watch the paramedics work. They’re trying so hard. I can’t see who they’re working on, but they’re determined.
I try to recall what happened. Everything flashes by in a blur. The party. Taking the keys from Tom. Driving him home.
We started arguing. I can’t quite recall about what, but it was loud. I guess I wasn’t paying as much attention to the road as I should have.
I remember lights.
A truck horn.
A loud crunch.
Then the ambulance was there. I saw them taking Tom away, but he looked okay. I hear them mention a broken leg and punctured lung.
My attention is brought back to the scene at my feet. They’re yelling, but something’s wrong. I’m hearing them like we’re at opposite ends of a long tunnel. They’re frantic, but it’s like they’re moving in slow motion. What’s going on?
“No good,” I hear one say. “She’s gone.” The person they worked so hard to save is dead.
Oh, God. Me.
I’m dead. I’m only 17. I can’t be…
But I am.
So, what comes next? The afterlife, or just noth