I blink hard, clutching the steering wheel and look up. I watch in horror as Sean tries to evade the massive amount of steel barreling down on him. He turns sharp, but the back tire doesn’t grip. It slides out from under him. The bike tips over and falls to the ground. Sparks fill the air like fireworks when the bike’s on its side.
Sean hits the pavement hard and rolls uncontrollably into traffic.
I hear a voice screaming, and don’t realize that it’s me. I’m running. Suddenly, I’m running into the intersection. Sean’s bike collides with the side of the truck and bits and pieces of plastic and metal are launched in a thousand different directions. I can’t feel anything but my heart beat. It slams into my ribs over and over again. My scream continues to fill my ears, sounding like an echo. I fall on my knees next to Sean’s crumpled body. I watched him skid when he hit the ground. I saw the way his neck moved, the way his helmet bounced against the cement like a stone. I’m next to him, calling his name, trying to pull up his visor, trying to see if he’s all right. But I know he’s not. I already know he can’t be.
My mind replays the events and terror fills my veins. He saw the truck. It would have hit me. Sean saw the truck and did this on purpose.
He saved me.
I scream at Sean, calling his name, but he doesn’t move. His black jacket and gloves are shredded. There’s blood dripping from inside his helmet. I try to unfasten the chin strap, but I can’t get it. I’m shaking so badly. I keep saying his name, telling him that it’ll be all right.
My hands are on his chest, but I’m scared. I’m so scared that I’ve lost him. I don’t understand how he could do this. I don’t understand him at all, and now that chance is gone.
People race around us. Suddenly, I’m not alone. Lights flash around me, bright red and white. They try to take me away from Sean, but I won’t go. They pull me from him and force me into the back of an ambulance. The world rushes by in a blur of sounds and colors. There are too many people and not enough cars on the road. Police and paramedics are there. One minute I was alone and the next they were there, trying to tell me to leave Sean’s side. They made promises that I’ve heard before, promises that a person can’t possibly keep. They say he’ll be fine, but I saw Sean fall and I know.
Memories of the past and the present collide together. I can’t even blink anymore. Hands force me down onto a gurney and I lean back. A woman is above me, speaking soothingly, but my heart pounds too hard to hear her.
Finally, her voice cuts through the buzzing in my mind. It’s my name, she says my name. The woman smiles at me and dabs my brow with a cloth. “You’re hurt, Avery. Let us help you and everything will be okay. Take some deep breaths for me.” She speaks with authority, like she knows me. I don’t remember telling anyone my name, but she knows it.
I nod slowly and stop fighting them. I’m so tense, so scared. I don’t know what will happen. Tears fall from the corners of my eyes and they won’t stop. I don’t sob or scream anymore. They ask me what hurts and I can’t tell them, because I don’t understand what’s happening to me. One moment I’m fine. One moment I’ve decide to walk away from Sean, to cut him out of my life, but then he does this.
“He saved me,” I manage to say. The ambulance is moving and I don’t even remember when the doors closed. The woman looks down at me. There are other faces watching, people I don’t recognize.
“Everything will be all right. Believe that.” The way she says it makes my head hurt. Suddenly, I can feel things again. My palms burn and it feels like someone cracked my skull open with a bat. It throbs in a way that I’ve never known. I wince and they add some clear bag to the IV that someone put in my hand.
The rest of the night passes in a blur. I’m sent to the emergency room. People ask questions and I try to answer. I keep asking about Sean, but no one will tell me. I haven’t even seen him, yet. He arrived right before me is all they will say. I have this horrible sinking feeling in my chest. I’m drowning, unable to stop.
“Miss Stanz?” a voice says before entering behind my curtain. They’ve already tended to me. I have a few scrapes on my face and some stiches in my forehead. I’m lucky. I glance up at her. My hands still shake. My throat aches and I can’t speak. “Here are your boyfriend’s things. He doesn’t have an emergency contact or a next of kin on his file.” She explains to me and then hands me his torn jacket and busted up helmet. It feels like someone is squeezing my heart.