((Just a little drabble I made. Not about Hetalia. I was on an airplane coming back from Costa Rica and I was hot, and sticky, and sweaty... And tired. So don't judge, my lovelies~))
I stood on the sidewalk, facing the road, watching as she walked along the cement on the other side. She nimbly dodged people that passed her, going against the crowd. I stared at her, keeping track of her every move.
It's such a shame; she's so young. Maybe in her early twenties? Beautiful, too. Her curly brown hair framed her doll-like face. The youthful woman walked faster, wanting to beat the stop light before it turned red. She ran and got to the intersection just as the small green person on the light box turned to the bright orange hand. The girl was too late, though. In my subconscious I heard the strained cries of bystanders as they tried to warn her.
Then, right on cue, the semi-truck came.
She turned and had a split second to squeal before the truck barreled over her. People screamed, cried, and even took pictures, though no one even thought to call 911; same as always. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my forehead and a bright light blinded me. Then, it was over.
I looked around from my spot in the middle of the sidewalk and noticed a petite brunette running down the cement on the other side of the road. She looked like she was running to the intersection, though the sign indicating it's okay to walk was only available for about seven more seconds. Still, the woman sped down the sidewalk, trying to beat the red light.
As I turned away I heard the loud blare of a semi-truck's horn about a block away. And, for some reason, I felt that the young lady wasn't going to make it.
