|| Down For You || Rihanna & Kehlani

Thank You - 26

March 17, 2016
Oakland, California
9:02 A.M.
Kehlani Ashley Parrish

My eyes shot open and my lungs expanded as I took in a huge breath of a blessing called O2. I tried to look around and clear my vision, but my surroundings failed to help me find a conclusion on what the fuck and where fuck fuck I'm at. Smelling smoke, I immediately shot up, hitting my forehead on the roof of the car. Hissing, I held my head, brain already swirling and thumping in excruciating pain. The more I came to, the more pain I seemed to be in. What typa' shit is this? And where the fuck is all this smoke and underlying heat comin' from?

"Son of-" I coughed a wet, gurgle like cough, cutting myself off. Wiping my mouth, I looked down and saw a flurry of red on what I thought was my hand. Shit it could be an amputated limb of someone else's. I blinked twice more, sighing at my vision's lack of improvement. It's like everything's goin' in slow motion. Not to help it, this ringing in my ears is keepin' me from being able to use an essential sense of mine. I sighed and tried to move slightly, but a sharp, painful sensation in my arm was keepin' me from doing so. Not to mention my stomach was definitely unforgiving at this point. I looked at my arm hoping my vision woulda slightly cleared up so I could at least see what was in my arm dammit. Life is truly saying "Ima do you dirty".

Looking over to my left, I saw a figure lying against the window, well, what's left of the window. That's when it all finally clicked, my vision came back, tunneled like an owl because I was only focused on her. Her uncomfortably positioned body was limp as her head was tilted back halfway out of the window, red substance easing its way out of her nostrils and parted heart shaped lips.

I swallowed and shakily let out a "...Robyn...", hoping she could hear me. But she didn't move... Not even a muscle.. Not even a simple lift of her finger or the smallest twitch of her eyelid. Nothing.

"Robyn." I said louder, or I at least thought I did. Still all I hear is ringing. And still, all I see from her is.

Nothing.

I can't let her die! Hell I know I'm barely alive myself but I can't.. I can't let her die. I'm pissed as fuck at her for all the shit and hell's she's put me through, but I'd rather her be alive so I can cuss her out every fucking second of the day about how reckless she is than be screaming my lungs out and crying my eyes out at her grave wondering..

Why?

Why didn't I tell her faster to move out of the way of the semi truck that was going about 50-60 miles per hour toward us?

Why wasn't I able to shoot enough of those... Bitches that surprise attacked us?

Why wouldn't I be able to drag her out of this so close to catching on fire and blowing up, totaled car fast enough to save us both?

Why is the world so... Brutal?

While all of these questions and thoughts were doing a 100-meter dash through my brain, I didn't even realize that I had freed my now gory arm of its restraint and reached over to see if this oh so beautifully insane caramel skinned Barbadian named Robyn Fenty still had a pulse. I lifted my hand to her neck and pressed two fingers to her carotid pulse, quietly. Ever so faintly did I feel a small force, a thump, push through her muscles and skin to reach my fingers and let me know that there is some life left in her.

"Ima get you outta here Robyn..." I thought. Trying to open my door, I realized that it was no longer capable of opening its usual way. I sighed and planted the both of my hands on the edge of the window, my fingertips gripping the ledges as I slowly hoisted myself out of the seat. As painful as it was, I had to find a way to escape the clutches of the seat's confinement.