Silent Horizons

Suddenly, the lights of a truck appeared in the distance. It was moving too fast. "Hold on!" I yelled, jerking the wheel hard.

The world flipped upside down. The deafening sound of impact, metal twisting, muffled screams — it all happened in seconds, but felt like an eternity.

When the car stopped, it was on its side, the glass shattered, and the rain kept falling mercilessly. My vision was blurred, everything hurt. "Hey... are you okay?" I called out, desperate.

Silence.

I turned as far as I could and saw her there, motionless, blood staining the seat, running down her face. "No, please... no..."

My hands shook as I touched her, but she didn't respond. The serene smile she had given just minutes before now seemed like a cruel farewell. I screamed her name, searching for any sign of life, anything.

The sound of sirens grew louder in the distance, but it was too late.

There, on that deserted road, with the rain washing the asphalt and the truck's lights fading in the background, I understood what she had meant. The end, the one she had spoken of so often, had come. And I had never been ready for it.