The crash

It was very dark out. The moon would come and peack out of its clouds, then rush back into them, perhaps afraid to be seen at such a low glow. Down below the city lights winked merrily, as though asking all the travelers on highway five to come into their warmth. On the road every few minutes a car would pass then bye, to bussy to stop and say hello. It didn't matter that it was three in the morning, there is always traffic on the highways.

Ashly was driving her red Ford Galactic. Every now and then her eyes would drift ever so slightly closed, her car would swerve just a fraction over and her wheels would go bump against the warning dots they put on all the lanes. Her eyes would flash open again, and she would consider pulling over and just sleeping a bit on the side. She couldn't, of course, because tomarrow was a work day. She didn't have any time off left, not even for a sick day. She would get home around four, sleep for three hours then head back off to work.

It was all because of her sister. Not that it was her sisters fault of course, her sister couldn't help being sick, but it was still because of her sister. She'd been over there, nursing her sister well into the night. It was a job someone had to do because when her sister got the flue she doesn't get up, and that means she doesn't drink and she de-hydrates which makes her fever sky rocket. It was the job someone had to do, and it just so happened that out of all her siblings Ashly was the closest to Anna.

Once again Ashly's eyes began to close, the dark to cover her, her hand to shift to the left, but this time something happened that had not the past few times. The person in the lane next to Ashly sped up and attempted to swerv into her lane. Bump went the tires, open went the eyes, over back into the lane went the car, strait into the other cars path.

For Ashly it was mercifully quick. Her car was thrown off against the center devide, where it did an impresive flip landing window first over the devide. Ashly never stood a chance. The devide broke her neck in two places and the glass from the window impaled her in several different spots. She was dead in ten minutes.

For the other driver things were not so good. He was thrown away from the center devide, into the desert. He hit a small bush and came to a stop. For a few minutes he sat there, just breathing, then he reached his hand up and undid his seat belt. Thats when he saw Ashly's car.

He got out of the car and crossed the still road. It was eerie how silent and unreal the situation was. There was no way he just hit someone. Things like that just didn't happen to him. It happened to other people. He reached out and touched the car that was so still in the darkness. It felt solid.... horribly solid. He looked into the car, but it was all dark inside and he couldn't see. What if the person who'd been driving was seriously injured? What if they needed help? What should he do?

He took out his cell and looked down at it. If he called then the police would have his number. He'd be detained, maybe even sent to jail. He had a meeting he was rushing off to, he couldn't hang around waiting for the police to come arrest him. Even if they didn't he would have to wait for the ambulence, waiting for hours. He might even be fired if he stayed. The company was doing tuns of lay offs. He sat down and hugged his knees.

If he stayed his life could be ruined, all his plans gone, all his dreams never realized. If he left the person inside might die, and if he left it would be his fault.

"What are you thinking, of course you have to call the cops man. This is someones life we're talking about, thats way more important than any job will ever be. You know that!" He said to himself, then flipped open his phone.He'd dialed the nine when he heard deep inside his head another thought sqeek.

'If you do this they'll blame you. You'll be on the news as a killer. You'll be fired, not because of being late but because no company will hire a murderer like you. They'll say you were driving recklessly, that you were speeding and didn't see her. Everyone will hate you.' He looked back down at the phone, looked at the car. He got up and moved, pacing. He sat down and looked back at the phone. He felt his heart beat begin to excelerate. He felt his fingers in a way that he never had before, they tingled. He had to make a decision.

Another car could pass any minute now. He had to do whatever it was he was going to do soon. He got back up. Why was the car so silent? Maybe they were dead already. That would mean it wouldn't make a difference if he stayed or left, not really.

The thought that he might have killed someone made him stomach hurt. Fires of pain reached up and tugged him to his knees. He didn't want anyone to die. He didn't want anyone to be hurt. He didn't want it to be his fault. He looked again at the phone.

If he dialed the number that meant there was hope for the person. It meant possible salvation.

"They won't hate me for hitting someone. Its an accident. That means didn't happen on purpose. People will understand." He pressed the one.

'Yeah, because people are so understanding.' That stopped him because in his past people had been a lot of things and understanding wasn't one of them. People just didn't give secound chances, they just didn't let you say I'm sorry. Instead they blamed you, docked your pay or fired you. That was for small stuff. How would they be for big stuff?

"I doesn't matter. I'll have to live with them if I do call, but if I don't I'll always have you at the back of my head, whispering murderer all threw my life. If I don't make the call I'll never forgive myself." And he pressed the final one. The phone range and a voice answered over the line.

"Please state the nature and location of your medical emergency."