What If I Can't Forget You?

{21}

Alex's POV

"Oh God. Oh my God-" Vic opened the van door quickly and ran towards the scene. He stopped suddenly, stumbled, then puked on the black pavement. Mike killed the ignition and quickly followed behind Vic. Tony threw the van door open, and we all stumbled out as fast as we could.

Mike was holding a now sobbing Vic back. He was uncontrollably shaking now, his small body racked with sobs. He struggled against Mike, who easily restrained him.

Tony ran toward the van, slowing as he neared the driver's side. I saw him choke up, and his hands shot up to his face as he stared in horror at whatever was on the ground.

"Alex! Alex. For heaven's sake, Alex! Oh my God, call 911." Claire screamed at me now. I realized that I had zoned out, so captivated and horrified by the scene that I was unable to function. I snapped back to reality- the terrifying, horrendous reality before me. Adrenaline raced through my veins as I pulled out my phone and called the number.

"911, what's your emergency?" Came a calm feminine voice.

"There was an accident on I-7. A van, we think only one passenger. Please- please hurry." I began to cry. I realized, finally, that it wasn't some unknown person in that van. It was Jaime. My Jaime. "It's overturned- there's so much glass- Yes- Mile marker 37. Please! Dead? He's- we don't know if he's-" I sobbed now, unable to control myself. That was Jaime in that van.

The woman on the other end assured me that an ambulance was on its way. She began to try and console me. Keep calm. Everything will be alright.

The woman was wrong. I knew it, she knew it. No point in listening. I hung up the phone. It was silent on the desolate highway, save for Vic's wailing and distant sirens.

I felt distant from the scene again. Almost like I was watching it in a movie; not really there, not really feeling anything. I walked, almost in a trance, towards the driver's side where Tony knelt.

The glass crunched under my feet as I approached him. Tony looked at me, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Alex..." He said, in a little pathetic voice that probably meant that I shouldn't look. But I had to.

Jaime lay there, partially strapped to the seat. The seatbelt cut into his lower neck, and blood was caked around where it rubbed through his shirt. Vomit dribbled down his chin and neck, and his face was almost completely covered in blood oozing from miniature cuts from the glass.

His shoulder hung limp at an angle that made me shudder, and he dangled partially out of the upside-down van, unconscious.

I'm not sure how long I was frozen there, staring at him. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours. Eventually, I felt Tony gently tug me away. He pulled me into a hug, gently holding me as my tears poured onto the fabric of his hoodie.

Red, blue, white. Flashing lights and the scream of sirens engulfed us. I was distant again, watching the movie unfold. Vic's desperate cries of horror, tears streaming down his red face. Tough Mike, trying hard to fight back tears as he helped police hold his hysterical brother back from the ambulance. EMT's rushing over the glass to our friend.

Glass, everywhere. Shards of stars shining on the blacktop.

The stretcher, shoved into the white light of the ambulance. Sirens, as it sped off into the thick Arizona night.