The never ending kind

1- Prologue: Unraveling the Beginning

The scream would have felt good.
My life seemed to be one horrible experience after another, all culminating in my urge, my need, to scream. But of course, I didn't. Society is many things, fucked up being paramount. It's okay to bully and abuse people, and if the abuse was really bad and people knew about it, of course it was fine so long as it was outside of the public eye.
So, I stood there, leaned against this weird bridge-pier thing, big clunky wood made of large ass slivers and large metal bolts occupying my time. I suppose the view was probably nice too.
When the sun began scalding my sensitive eyes, turning everything into yellows then reds, I turned my back on it, watching the cars and random pedestrians. I actually saw a couple joggers. I thought those only happened in movies like Sex and the City or horror flix, but guess not.
I leaned against the wooden frame, not trusting myself to sit on an edge that is several stories from the bottom. I'd rather if my death weren't an embarrassing accident.
Sweating. I hated sweating. But I also hated when people looked at me; always made me feel exposed, especially... When they were in groups. Gritting my teeth, my hands removed the suffocating jacket, regretful at wearing a tank underneath. I had not expected to stay out, let alone come out at all. Blame my sucky life. Yet again.
The jacket stayed at my arm, because I didn't want big ass splinters pricking me or just having to pull them out and possibly wreck my jacket from it later. So, greetings arm, you get a jacket.
In my thoughts some more, I was just thinking, 'and this is the part where you-'
I ran out.
Yeah, I seriously ran out into the middle of the fucking road.
Hell , at least I found not quite the stupidest way to die.
Except, dying wasn't really the goal in this case. Actually, I really fucking wanted to live, if that were possible.
You see, there was this little stupid crosswalk not far from me where some kids were hanging out and about to cross. Now, that would be no big deal if I hadn't noticed the crazy ass truck and even crazier damn driver, which I wouldn't have seen if not for that bright flash of light. Thanks sun, for searing that frightening image into my brain for all eternity.
The guy was fucking insane. He had this gross and deranged smiling caricature pasted to where his face should be, hair back away from his squinty eyes and rough, druggy skin. The truck was big with a metal grate and all kinds of who knows what attached. An ugly Mad Max on drugs anyone?
So, I run towards the kids, trying to make them move. I remember yelling something like, "Get out of the way!"
Guess I scared most of them myself, waving my arms around and yelling while running towards them, because several jumped back onto the sidewalk.
Here's where it gets cliche- there was this one kid that had been ahead of everyone else, chatting and laughing... And already in the crosswalk.
Before you ask, no, I did not push said kid out of the way. In retrospect, he would have gotten run over by the wheels anyway if I had. Nope, instead, I covered the kid with my jacket, almost tackling him and covering him the rest of the way with my body.
Well. Kinda, at least. Remember the truck? Yeah, it had been moving pretty damn fast... And, as said, there was pretty much no time for anything, which meant that we didn't make it to the ground before the truck was on us.
Good news? The tires didn't get us. Bad news? The grill and the undercarriage did... I'm pretty sure, at least.
I was on top, covering the kid as best I could-ish, since I had pretty much did a stop, drop... Wait, you put the blanket on while they're rolling... And I didn't really stop, so bad analogy. Can't blame me, though, cuz I got injured by a truck. I'd say that gave me several free passes, and maybe a cookie box or two.
I don't remember too much after that; pretty much scream, scream, scream, yell, screech, bang, engine sounds, crashes and a truckload of pain. Yeah, I went there.
There were a very small couple of things I do remember after the truck passed over us. First, my head fell down to the side of the jacket-covered kid. My left cheek felt the warm asphalt, looking at my mostly clean jacket, my eyesight turning red, but not from the sun this time. Wetness. And I saw the kid breathing through my jacket, as well as his hand coming up to my arm that I still had around him. My right hand was crushed under his head, and there was no way I would be able to move in any way, so sucks to be you kid, but you'll have to manage getting out from under me on your own. And that is where the story ends for me, cuz after that, my consciousness wasn't present to fill me in on anything else.