It was an ordinary day in your life. You woke up, had breakfast, took a shower, then headed downstairs to grab your bike from the parking garage of your building. But it seemed the cards weren’t in your favor. A few neighbors stopped you, one of your tires wasn’t working properly, and you had to take a detour because of road construction.

By the time you were finally on your way, you were already running late—so you pedaled with everything you had, fast enough that you didn’t notice the black, tinted vehicle heading straight toward you, trying to beat the traffic light.

You felt the force of the impact, the burn of asphalt as your body. flew. and. scraped. across the ground. You immediately heard commotion, but you couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Everything was moving—too fast, blurred. Then you opened your eyes once more, and a face entered your field of vision. Blonde. Blue eyes. You swore it looked familiar. But your head throbbed, and your vision still wouldn’t focus.

“I’m so sorry,” She said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “My driver—he tried to make the light. I didn’t see you. I swear—I’m so sorry.”

She hovered close without touching too much, afraid to hurt her more, one hand braced on the ground, the other shaking as she reached for her phone.

“We’re going to a hospital. I’ll take you. I won’t leave you—okay? Just… just stay with me.”