She's back ~ L. Hamilton

104. | Doesn't Change Anything

The garage had gone quiet.

I could see Christian yelling down his microphone, 'red flag, red flag' towards the stewards in a desperate attempt to stop the race before another car ends up caught in the crash.

My stomach has sunk.

The entire straight is covered in smoke that had come from the two cars.

Neither driver emerges from the car.

The camera keeps flipping between the two cars, both remain motionless.

"I'm sure he's fine Delaney" a women says from behind me. I don't know who she is, but apparently she thinks we're close enough for her to attempt to comfort me

"He's hanging upside down" I mutter in response

"What-"

"Oh fuck off for a second" I say, snapping at the stranger

I don't take my eyes away from the screen

Daniel is the first to get out of his car, slowly, he slides from the seat and over the halo. He crouches over in pain once he steps onto the ground, clutching his side. Stewart's are around his, one holding his back and attempting to direct him away from the car, which had gone up in smoke now, the engine had probably caught on fire.

But Lewis's car was another story.

He was no where to be seen, Stewart's were surrounding his car, all for them attempting to flip the car enough to check on him until the forklift arrives

"This does not look good for poor Hamilton" The sky commentator speaks

It feels like hours as the forklift arrives on scene and with the help of 20 or so Stewart's, flips the car over. Immediately the cars surrounded by them as they reach in to help Lewis out.

Slowly, the help him out and onto the ground. There's an ambulance waiting a meter or so away from the car, the second Lewis steps foot onto the ground, two doctors grasp his arms and gently help him into the back of the ambulance. And before you know it, the doors are snapped closed and the ambulance is headed away.

All the other drivers have now come into the pit lane and stopped their cars, the race has been paused while they attempt to clear away all the debris off the track.

I feel sick.

The commentators know nothing more than what we've all just witnessed. They're making guesses at Lewis's condition.

Before I can stop myself, I've taken off running.

I run out of the red bull garage and out through the front, filling out onto the pit lane.

The pit lane is alive with people. All the engineers were out of the garages and surrounding the cars that were now parked along the pit lane, drivers and media personnel were running everywhere.

The red bull garage was near the end of the pit lane, the Mercedes was near the top.

I take off running, ignoring the fact I was in heels.

I run past the McLaren garage, past the Aston Martin garage. I nearly crash into a group of mechanics, another group jump out of my way when they see me coming, I hit off someone's shoulder. But I don't pay it any attention.

I reach the Mercedes Garage, just as George is about to walk back inside.

"George!" I yell out.

He turns to see who had just called his name, his brows furrow in confusion as he spots me heading in his direction