The Mistake That Broke Me

Chapter Seven: I am Broken

Song: Ashes of Eden by Breaking Benjamin

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Destruction lies upon me, landscaping the land in gore, glass, and gasoline. Among the sea of glass, is another vehicle which lays on its side. The windows are shattered and an orange glow starts to billow from the motor of the vehicle.

It's catching fire....

A little, scraped hand lies limply out of the shattered window, and I know it is a child's hand.

No no no no!

Guilt immediately tears at me as I think quickly.

The fire grows quickly as it mixes with the gasoline.

My eyes dart around and I scream in pain as I drag myself across the pavement that has been warmed by the sun. I can't walk, my right leg is bent at an odd angle and my left leg has been ripped to shreds by glass.

I do my best to reach the injured child in hopes to saving a life that night. When I finally do reach the child, I grip his hand and attempt to pull him out.

But he doesn't move.

He's stuck between the window that is half shattered, and raising a weak fist, I try to smash the rest of the window in, but it's no use. I pull my bloodied fist back and cry.

His hand is limp in my own and I cry in frustration and desperation. "Come on, baby. Please, please be okay." I beg through tears as I do my best to save the child.

But the fire soon roars with intensity, and I don't even hear the low hum of a motorcycle as it pulls up to the crash scene. A man with brown hair and piercing blue eyes steps out from the motorcycle and drags me away, kicking and screaming.

"No! I-I have to h-help them!" I scream, hot tears  flowing down my cheeks and dripping down onto the pavement below. I don't even release my nose is broken until it starts to burn in protest.

The man holds me firmly against his leather jacket, obviously being careful not to injure me any further.

But I don't care about me, I care about the withering lives stuck in the vehicle, because obviously, if that hand is a child's, then an adult has to be in there, too.

He lays me down on my back carefully on the pavement, and looking me dead in the eye, his low, deep voice commands, "Do not move. Any further movement could kill you. Help is on the way."

I'm speechless when he runs over to the burning vehicle, and pulling out a gun from his waistband, he rams the butt of the pistol into the what's left of the glass window.

He coughs when the smoke enters his lungs, but that doesn't stop him from pulling out the child, no older than maybe eight years old, out of the carnage.

Sirens are heard in the distance, becoming closer....

Closer....

Closer....

My head lolls weakly to the side and my fading eyes watch as the unknown man lays the child down on the ground and checks his pulse. I beg God that he is alive. That there is a chance. I couldn't live with myself if lives died from my hands.

But the man glances up at me, some tendrils of his hair falling into his stunning eyes.

He stares at me for a moment, his gaze holds no emotion as he suddenly gets up and flees the scene. The sound of his motorcycle dies as it fades into the distance.

Blue.

Red.

Blue.

Red.