Sunday, January 16, 2011

The Man on the Motorcycle

First, I hit my head on the dashboard, then the window.  I open my eyes to see the windshield is cracked in about twenty different places. I close my eyes for what seems like a second and my brother is at my side helping me out onto the pavement.  Once I step out of the car, my eyes fall upon the break fluid that cover the asphalt.  Thinking it's blood, I start to cry.  I walk slowly to the front of the car.
    I look up to see a shiny blue motorcycle laying on its side.  I am confused; there seems to be no one belonging to the totaled  machine that lay before me.  My attention is then drawn to the panicked crowd of people standing a few feet from me on the hillside.  They look as though they are huddled around something. I hear a lady yelling for someone to call an ambulance, and I notice she was trying to give CPR.  When I approached the small group of people, my heart begins to pound.  I step closer to the man laying lifeless on the ground and horror strikes my heart.  I quickly turn and collapsed into the arms of a friend standing close by. The image of the lifeless face is now etched into my soul...

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