Your boyfriend of two years does motorcycle races with his friends all the time. He goes too fast for your comfort, but he reassures you he's perfectly good at driving and won't get hurt. It's late at night, 2 am, and he's lining up at a stop light with a buddy of his. no one is driving on the road and no cops are out. His friend Alex drops his arms, and Lance and the other friends race off. It's a blur. Squealing tires, a flash of flames and the sound of something hitting something hard.

you're the first one to him, about 1,000 feet away. You're running like your life depends on it. You get to him, and he's ok. His helmet is off as he sits on the grass next to the road. his bike wrapped around a tree