With Death Etched In My Heart

Chapter 19: Breath My Blood

SUPRISE MOFOS!!!! Ihaveaspecialtreatforyouallinthischapter (; Imadeitextralong, justforyouguys. Iknowsomeofyouhavetoldmeaboutthe impact Asher'sstoryhashad, andI'meternallygratefulforit. I just wantyoualltoknow, I'mhere. Youareallsobeautiful, don'teverletanyonetellyouotherwise. Kickmeanytime @BlueGummyBearXD, ifyoueverneed help. Iknowyouthinkpeoplejustsaythatforthehellofit, butplease.... Iwant to help. Youdeservehelp, and Im here foryou, babes. Alwayshave, alwayswillbe.... Staystrong, everyone. Stayalive, forme, because I love you...
I was going to die...
I grabbed my chest, feeling the shard of glass cutting deeper into my lung. The air was leaking out slowly. My throat was tight, tears dripping from my wet eyelashes. I could hardly look around to see the damage that surrounded me. The car I was in was anilated, nearly unrecognizable. The glass was shattered in every window. The left door had been crushed in, same with the roof. Yards away was my fathers body. It was still, laying in a deep puddle of crimson blood. The sight revolted me. I looked away, nausea spinning in my head.
    The semi was located ahead. It had been tossed over, the trailor it was carrying dented and on its side. The door of the passenger was opened. The person must have been able to escape. Scattered along the road was shattered glass, and a trail of blood was left in certain spots.
     It became harder to breath. My body was shaking, and deep gasps sounded from my chest. I trembled, tracing the glass under my fingers. The faded sound of sirens sounded in the distance. I needed to get away. I couldn't go back to the hospital. I was determined. Shakily, and with much pain, I arose. My legs quivered, and I cried in pain. The shard moved in my chest. With my strength, I grasped onto it, and pulled. Screams escaped, and it slid out, my muscles burning. Blood oozed from my chest, soaking my violet shirt with blood. I tossed away the shard, hearing it clatter into the night. The sirens were getting closer. Nearly fading from the pain, I walked from the scene, and into the country night. I limped, my body sore, and muscles contracting from the excessive searing of pain wavering in every part of me.
         Walking was torture. Every ligament screamed for release. My chest had stopped bleeding, only dripping slightly, but still leaking oxygen. No amount of pain could compare to this.
             I turned around, looking at the scene behind me. The car I had been in was on fire. People gathered around, and zip spotted two men carry my fathers body on a stretcher. Three police cars were at a stop near the semi, and in front of the semi head, was an officer and what I assumed to be the driver , chatting. There were ambulances, maybe two, parked away from the accident. Their sirens were screeching, piercing my eardrums. That's when an explosion errupted into the night.
A blinding bright orange volcanic fire shot into the sky, and people were thrown back from the impact. Ruble flew through the air, landing randomly in different places.
                    I turned away from it all. I wouldn't be going back. No one could, or will, stop me.