Story 8 The accident

The accident

The howling wind suddenly seemed to go silent as Mishti's gaze came to rest on the terrifying sight in front of her. Abir's car. No, the mangled remains of Abir's car. It had flipped over and now it lay on its roof, the front of the vehicle jammed into the tree it had crashed into. Mishti's blood ran cold at the sight and it took a few seconds for her senses to kick back in, propelling her forward towards the wreck.

She dropped to her knees beside the driver's side window, her eyes already frantically searching for Abir and then focusing on his still figure inside. Her heart sank like a stone. He was hurt. Abir was hurt. There was blood running down from a gash across the right temple. She could not make out anything else except that his eyes were closed and he lay deathly still.

"ABIR!" she shouted out as loud as she could, fear making her voice quaver, pounding on the window for good measure. She needed to see that he was okay. Right now. This minute. He had to be okay. He just HAD to. But neither her voice nor her pounding had any effect whatsoever. Abir did not move at all.

Fighting a full blown panic, Misthi tried to get the door open, pulling hard at the door handle but the door seemed to be jammed. Maybe it had dented in the impact? What could she do now? She had to get to Abir. She HAD to. Maybe he could push from his side if she could get him to wake up.

She hammered on the door again, screaming out his name even louder .

"Abir, WAKE UP!! Abir, can you hear me?? Wake UP"

He did not even stir and Mishti's anxiety went up another notch. Why wouldn't he respond? How badly was he hurt in there??

She resumed her efforts to pull the door open and this time she found a stout branch with which to pry the door open leveraging the tiny gap that she had spotted. A mighty heave later, the door was almost fully open, granting her access to Abir and she scrambled closer.

"Abir, wake..." she started to say, her hand reaching to shake him by the shoulder and then her eyes fell upon the other injury, making her mouth dry up completely. A jagged glass shard, possibly from the shattered windshield, was embedded deep in his body, an inch under his collarbone. Blood soaked through his white T shirt, presenting a stark contrast both to the shirt itself and Abir's paling complexion.

Mishti's hand stilled before she could touch him. A sob rose in her throat and she tried to stifle it. She was literally afraid to touch him for fear of causing him pain but what could she do? She HAD to get him out of the car. But moving Abir could worsen the injury, push the glass in deeper. She could not pull the shard out either, he would start to bleed out heavily then. And he had already lost a lot of blood going by the state of his T shirt.

As her senses reconciled to the sight of the horrific injury, the other problem registered- the more immediate one. The smell of petrol was overpowering and it told Mishti that the car probably had a ruptured fuel tank. It meant that the car was a potential death trap, it could turn into an inferno any minute with the tiniest spark. There was no choice, she had to get him out NOW, somehow, anyhow! And she needed him to help her because there was no way she could move him on her own. It never even occurred to Mishti that she should move away and save herself.

Steeling herself, she moved her attention away from the bloodied, jagged piece of glass buried deep in his body and tried to rouse Abir. It took a good five minutes of shouting out his name, shaking him by the shoulder, and finally a sharp slap across his face before he responded sluggishly. Mishti nearly cried with relief when his eyelids began to flutter.

"Abir, look at me, wake up" she coaxed, patting his cheek until finally he managed to get his eyes open.

Completely dazed honey orbs settled on her face with effort, a vague familiarity seeping into them after an inordinate delay.