The lights shine in my eyes as I turn back to look at the beautiful girl sitting on the back of my bike. My stomach plummets when I see the speed of the car coming up behind us. It’s not slowing down.
“Slow down, slow down,” I chant, panicked, and when my gaze drops to those beautiful chocolate brown eyes, Chloe’s face contorts, as if she’s trying to figure out what the look on my face means. The light turns green and I accelerate. But it’s too late; I misjudged the speed of the vehicle. Tyres scream as the driver realises his or her mistake. My chest tightens. Not again, please.
The back of the bike is clipped. Chloe’s grip tightens before there’s nothing. Her embrace is gone, ripped from me. I’m falling and unable to stop. My head slams on the road, rattling me around.
“Argh!” I cry as the bike handle falls on my wrist, pinning it as I slide along the rough surface. A raw burning sensation shoots up my arm and down the calf of my leg that’s pinned under the bike. After what feels like forever, I stop moving; in fact, every car around me has stopped.
As the pain begins to spread and panic fills every fibre of me, I scan the area. Where is she?
I undo my helmet. A woman rushes over. “Are you okay?” She looks me over.
Looking down at the leg beneath the bike, I push the bike up slowly, with the help of the woman. I see a massive tear in my jeans and the skin is red, raw, and bleeding. My hand is in the same condition, but I don’t care about me right now. “I’m okay, I think. Where’s the girl that was on the back?” My voice is breathless, and tears threaten to fall.
When the woman raises her shaking hand and points, I turn my head to see another unknown woman kneeling beside Chloe. My heart stops . . . my pain completely forgotten. The pain shooting up my leg is excruciating, but I manage to get myself up. My legs carry me as fast as they can to the unmoving body on the road and another car which is close to her.
“Chloe!” I roar. “No, no, no, please no.”
My tears fall. After what feels like forever, I collapse to my knees beside Chloe’s head. Blood . . . there’s so much blood. Her helmet isn’t on her head, where is it? Seeing her lying there broken, and unmoving, her big brown eyes not opening, fills my heart with dread. There’s bloody scratches up her arms. Her jeans are torn and more blood spills from the gashes on her legs. It breaks me, bringing back so many memories I’ve been trying for years to push to the back of my mind.
The same lady I was talking to earlier comes up behind me, placing her hand on my shoulder. “The ambulance has been called.”
I don’t answer her; I just nod. I take Chloe’s head gently in my hands, so I don’t cause her anymore pain. “Chloe, please, if you can hear me, talk to me. Come back to me,” I beg through sobs. I place light kisses on her cheeks, and my tears slide down my nose and drip on her blood-covered face. In the distance, I can hear the siren of the ambulance. Once again, I’ve escaped with only minor scrapes. This isn’t right.
Why do I always lose the ones I love the most? Am I being punished for something I’ve done? Please not Chloe, I need her.
“WHY?” My voice echoes in the streets around me as I continue to stroke her hair and her face with a shaky hand. Her chest moves slowly, and that gives me some hope she’s all right, but she’s not moving or responding and that worries me. It scares the living hell out of me. The bright, flashing lights surround us. Only then do I notice that people on the street have made a safety circle, standing shoulder to shoulder with their backs to us. They’re blocking the people who only want to gawk. It’s very overwhelming.
“Sir, can you hear me?”
Looking up, I’m met with a man in a paramedic suit. “Please help her. Please.” My throat tightens at my final please.
The man nods. Kneeling, he assesses Chloe. I continue to nurse her head until a different paramedic speaks again, this time a woman.
“Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me your name?” She kneels beside me.
“Seth, Seth Thomas,” I croak, not taking my eyes from Chloe.
“Thank you. Seth, could you please come with me and let the other paramedics look after your friend?”
“I don’t want to leave her.” My gaze shifts, and I look at the female paramedic. Her face falls at the sight of mine.
“Please let me assess you, and while I do that they will take care of her.” She inclines her head towards the woman who just moments ago, was kissing me.
“Her name is Chloe. She needs to be alright, please.” My head is a complete mess as all the memories come flooding back and I’m reliving my horror dream again––the day I lost my family in that horrific car accident, their lifeless bodies surrounding me. I called to them, but they never responded, I blamed myself. The blood coming from Mum’s nose, still haunts me. And now when I finally find someone whom I truly care about and want to be with, she’s fighting for her life.
“They will do everything in their power to assist her. Please come with me. Are you able to walk?” I nod.
Gently, I lift Chloe’s head from my lap and place it delicately on a picnic blanket a bystander hands me. As I move, the world seems to stop. It stops in its tracks. The night started out beautifully—now it’s shattering around me. The woman who holds a piece of me is at present fighting for her life. There’s so much blood on her skin. Her damaged body lies lifeless, and it’s all my fault.
“Are you okay?” the female paramedic asks, concern in her voice. She takes a hold of my arm to steady my wobbly body. With a gentle nudge from her, I slowly move forward, one foot in front of the other.
Each step breaks my heart. I don’t want to leave Chloe lying there. But I know she’s in good hands. There are police cars here now; I hope they have the bastard who clipped us.
Once I’m seated in the ambulance, the paramedic begins her assessment on my hand and leg. When she tries to rotate my wrist, I wince in pain.
“That hurt?” she questions. With a nod in reply, she makes a note and begins wrapping it. “We’ll need to get an X-ray on that. Could be broken. Do you remember what happened?”
“Yeah, some loser didn’t slow down and hit us. She is worse than I imagined . . .” The sentence is left hanging.
“We were informed she was clipped by another car as well. As she came off your bike, another car came travelling from the opposite direction and didn’t see her in time. They tried to miss her, but unfortunately . . .” She doesn’t need to say any more.
“She looks so bad.” My lip trembles.
The paramedic rests her gloved hand on my shoulder in comfort, a gesture I appreciate. My thoughts are consumed with Chloe. Each image I see is of her damaged body. I squeeze my eyes tighter, and more tears fall.
“This is all my fault.” I continue, “I shouldn’t have taken the bike.” I look up into the paramedic’s sad eyes. Does she even care about what I’m saying? She’s just doing her job.
“It’s not your fault, just trust me, we are doing everything we can. It’s not your fault, you can’t control what happens on the roads. They have her on the stretcher.” She nods towards the other two paramedics. They’re pushing a stretcher with her on it, covered, and a mask over her face. They move towards a different ambulance.
“Can I go with her?”
“No, sorry. They’ll need all the room to be able to work if something goes wrong. We can leave now and be there when she arrives. Please lie back and we’ll take care of you both.”
Reluctantly, I lie back, and the paramedic continues working and cleaning my shredded leg. She cuts my jeans off above the injury. My thoughts never move from Chloe.
Please be okay, I need you.