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I went to sleep with spots dancing across my eyes and the sound of ear splitting sirens wailing around me. Each breath felt like needles pricking my throat and for a moment, I even hesitated to breathe. But then through my blurry vision, I spotted her.
My wife, Angel, was slumped in the passenger seat, blood covering majority of her face and her favorite pink blouse. Was something broken? I didn’t know. I remembered draping my hand over her shoulder and mustering the strength to try and wake her up. Nothing. I covered her hand with my bloody one and squeezed.
My eyes rolled over to my window and saw someone tapping on the cracked, but not broken, glass. The man wore a bright traffic vest but his other features were blurry. Was it raining? I couldn’t remember.
He knocked some more, begging me to stay with him. To stay awake, alive, conscious, breathing, anything. He waved over more men as I sat leaning over the steering wheel, unable to move my neck, just my eyes. I looked back to her, my everything, then back at him, and tried to tell him somehow to get her.
‘Heal her, I thought, ‘Get her out, save her!’
My head started to feel heavier and my heart felt like lead. Was I crying or was it blood? It didn’t matter, I’d shed all my blood and tears to save her.
The effort it took to breather increased and the yelling turned to murmurs, the lights to blurs. I wanted to see Angel saved, to see her smile. My mind told me to sleep instead. The noise had dimmed down until it was utterly silent. My heartbeat was slow but my mind was racing. Was this death?
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No, the sounds came back, I don’t know how long I was without it though. The sounds were different this time, more relaxed, still.
Nothing really changed. I couldn’t move my body and it felt like my eyelids were bolted shut. At first I started to panic but then I remembered the noise was still there. At first, I could only hear my steady breathing, a soft beeping noise a ways away, and my heartbeat- faint but there. It stayed that way for awhile until my hearing picked up something: a voice, broad yet worried.
“....Not brain dead…”
“...Lucky…”
“...Worry… his wife… both…”
I strained my ears to understand more of his speech. I wished I hadn’t.
“....Coma for… weeks…”

Part 1 end