xliv. Circle
"What's the hold up here?" a man yells.
She cries softly, feeling the tug on her ribs with every breath. The blood trickles from her forehead and she tries to look over. She can't see him, but she can hear his labored breathing. She moves her left hand, ignoring the pain that shoots up her arm, and places it atop of his.
The paramedic whispers comforting words to her as they place her on the stretcher. She watches them stop their efforts.
"Please, please," she cries, desperate.
She leaves the accident with a few stitches. He doesn't leave at all.