There’s no sound more sickening than the sound of a child’s body hitting your windshield and the sight of that small, body striking the asphalt, a pool of blood forming under his head. No horror can compare knowing you are responsible for the possible death of someone’s baby. It began as an ice cream run at the request of my family members.
Walking away from the window of a local ice cream shop with my order, I got in my car and pulled slowly out of the parking lot onto Forest Ave. I noticed a police car pull out of the neighboring restaurant right behind me. Thank God, for no more than twenty-five yards down the road, a twelve-year-boy shot out of a side street on his bike, directly in my path. With not even a split second to think, the bumper of my car slammed into his bike sending the boy rolling up my hood, smashing into my windshield which popped him about ten feet in the air to land sickeningly on the asphalt near the curb.
Stunned, I shrieked in horror at the boy’s still form lying face down as a pool of blood formed under his head. Getting out of my car, I felt my legs give way as I screamed, “Oh, no, no, no!” over and over, sinking to my knees. The police behind me witnessed the whole unbelievable accident, pulled over and ran to the scene. One called for an ambulance and another yelled out for someone to get me a chair as I fell apart. There were no signs of life as the pool of blood widened. The ambulance was there in record time, along with the boy’s father. As the father panicked, getting in the way of the medics as he tried to get to his son, a police officer brought me to sit inside his car for my safety. The boy’s father was already out of his mind with the shock of seeing his son’s body lying there and seeing me, the one responsible, might send him over the edge.
From the within the safety of the police car, a million thoughts ran through my head as I watched, dream-like, the chaos outside.
I was not ticketed, but I asked that a blood test be taken to ensure that no one accused me of driving while impaired. Once released, I went to the hospital where the boy was taken. I had to know. Although I wasn’t allowed to see him, of course, the nurse reluctantly told me he was stabilized, alive. I almost broke down with relief. He had a broken pelvis and minor brain damage. I also found out he had no brakes on his bike nor did he wear a helmet. The responsibility of the parents, in my opinion, failed here. Today, he is a normal, teenaged boy, but has a very short attention span due to the blow to his head. I was traumatized, though, and will never forget that day.
© 2016, RissRyker518. All rights reserved.
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