I was driving home late at night with my four year old son Max and my eleven month old daughter, Elle. The air was gloomy and the sky was dark. It was about midnight and they were both sound asleep in the backseat. I’d catch myself looking at them whenever I could. They were so peaceful and innocent. At the next red light I turned around and covered them both up in a big blanket. They both snuggled in together and my heart melted. My heart then felt attacked by the sounds of a car’s brakes screeching and tires skidding. As the sound got louder I jolted back forward and my eyes met with another car, a few feet away from me. The headlights blinded me and gazed upon me like the way death stares upon its victim. As the car slammed into mine I could feel my body crunch up, my arms and legs squish, and my head thrust forward.
I awoke with a sense of fear and weakness. My body felt stuck and tough to move, as if it didn’t want me to anymore. I slowly made my way to the vehicle that hit me. It was red, like the blood that it made me shed. The driver’s head was rested on the steering wheel; he was dead. Blood stained his seats and the multiple empty bottles of beer beside him. I dizzily walked back to my car and sat down. I looked up into the mirror and saw Elle in her seat. My head tilted as a dog’s does when he’s confused. Thank God. She’s still asleep. I went to go hold her, but her body felt ice cold. I noticed large shards of glass forced into her tiny body and saw that I removed her from a pool of her own blood. I tried with all of my might to wake her up but her eyes remained closed and her body remained motionless. I laid her back down and I broke inside. I placed my hand on her heart; it was quiet and still. I held onto her hand and for the first time ever, it didn’t squeeze me back. I kissed her and released her.
“I love you Elle. I’m sorry” I cried.
It felt as though she hugged me goodbye. I stared at my little girl and covered my mouth to quiet my pain, yet I was unsuccessful. I fell to the ground sobbing.
My son heard my cries and ran over to me. He buried his head in my chest and clung to me.
“We’ll be okay” I assured him as I could hear the sirens.
“It hurts Mommy” he sniffled.
He pointed to a large piece of the window in his arm. His breathing intensified as he looked upon it. He held onto it and pulled it out.
“-No!” I quickly shouted.
He screamed at the top of his lungs and when he dropped to the floor; his arms were violently shaking. I resumed sobbing. Blood and tears gushed from him, all over him. I held onto his hand and his grip loosened. His eyes tried to shut no matter how much he tried to fight it.
“It’s okay Max. You don’t have to fight. You can let go sweetie” I cried to him, not meaning a word.
He couldn’t utter much but he pointed to his favorite bear, now in the road.
“Give this to sissy. It will protect her.”