Would you DIE for him?{Watty Awards 2012}

What Happened?

The car hit us, full impact. I heard screams of pain, surprise, and terror, and then, in a matter of seconds, everything was gone.

I woke with an IV plugged into my arm. The smell of disinfectants was overpowering, and the familiar beeping of machines surrounded me. I slowly bent my head to see bruises of all colors, stretching along my arms. Blotches of black, blue, and green mottled my regular skin color. I also saw scratches that had been stitched closed. Angry, thin red lines travelled across my arms and legs. I was wearing a hospital gown, and laying on one of the crinkly plastic pillows. The room was painted white. The shiny tile floors gleamed brightly, and a big window that had its blinds covering the view was to the left of me. In the corner, a small, clunky TV was nestled in the corner of the room. The door clicked open, and I saw my mom, dad, and a Doctor come striding in. He carried a clipboard, and thin spectacles were resting on the bridge of his nose. Dark circles showed under my dad’s eyes, and they both had very worried looks on their faces.I could tell my mom was about to resolve into tears and my dad’s solemn face told me he was sad, Very sad. “Hello Miss. Deliphia.”, the doctor said, scribbling down something on his notepad. “As you can see, you were very fortunate. The car wreck was severe-you’re lucky to have escaped with only bruises and cuts. No internal organs were damaged. Does anything else hurt?”, he asked, peering over his spectacles. I nodded no. “Well then, you will be on antibiotics and I want you to take good care of yourself ok?”,he said, wrinkling his brow. “Wait..”, I said letting the information sink in. “Wh..what about the others?”, I asked, slowly slipping into a panic. “Are they ok? Who else was hurt?”, I babbled on. ‘What about Helena, Logan, and SAM?", I thought, worrying, picturing my best friends, dead. I gasped, suddenly hyperventilating. “Helena and Logan were fine.”, my mom said, placing her hand gently on my knee. “But what about Sam?”, I demanded, anticipation rising in the air. No one answered. I felt a lump in my throat, about to break into sobs. My dad didn’t need to say the next few words. I already knew. “Leslie. I’m sorry, but Sam died.”