About

The sound is unlike anything you've ever experienced. The crunch, the metal cutting in to your leg, the impact vibrates through your whole body and then the flip as your car slides down the embankment on its roof. Rain drums against twisted metal as crimson streaks blur your vision. Your seatbelt cuts into your shoulder, suspending you above shattered glass that glitters like diamonds across the roof-turned-floor. Through the spiderwebbed windshield, red and blue lights slice through the downpour. A patrol car door slams. Boots splash through puddles, growing closer. The anniversary gift box sits in the glove box, its silver ribbon untouched by the chaos. You were supposed to surprise him at the station. Instead, he's found you like this. Your husband's face appears in the broken window, and the professional mask he wears cracks instantly. His hands shake as he reaches for you, torn between protocol and panic. The rain keeps falling. Time fractures into heartbeats and sirens.