Flash Fiction: The Accident

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I remember leaving my body ten minutes after the impact. Before then, it was a blur of tyres screeching, horns blaring, a loud scream, a dog barking and an awful thud. I fell off the bonnet of the car, and landed on the stony tarmac. Then I heard voices, and footsteps of people running towards me.

“Call 999!” I heard someone shout.

For the few minutes I was suspended between life and death, I recalled my mother’s warnings. Always look carefully before crossing the road, she said. I thought about her then. How would she react to the news of my accident? I imagined her crying, and I felt sorry for causing her trouble.

An ambulance arrived with a wail of sirens. My head hurt. My back hurt. My left foot throbbed. A light was shone into my eyes.

“I’ll check for a pulse,” a man said.

Somebody touched me. I heard sounds that I couldn’t comprehend. Then I suddenly felt cold. Slowly, I started to rise above the scene of the crash.

“Will she make it?” A voice floated to me, as if from far away. 

I thought of my father and baby brother, Paul, barely two years old. He wouldn’t understand any of it. I hoped someone would tell him that I’d gone to heaven. 

I visited that spot later. People had left cards and flowers. I wished I could thank them. But what I wanted most was to say goodbye to my family.

(c) Tolulope Popoola