Something warm and sticky was running down the side of my face, but I didn’t pay any attention to it. I was otherwise comfortable, curled up on the ‘floor’, almost nestled into a crook. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see anything, but the occasional twinkling of light from the shiny pieces of glass that surrounded me.
Everything was very quiet, except for the searing of… something. There was a screeching and searing noise, but I didn’t know what it was.

As my eyes began to adjust better, I noticed a face in front of mine. It was Jaime’s.

“Hi,” I said.

“Oh, thank God, you’re awake,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been awake for the past five minutes,” I said, feeling a tad delusional.

“Come on,” he said, and his strong arms reached over to me to pick me up.

“Hi-me, what happened to your head?” there was a massive gash on his forehead, and blood spread down the side of his face, similar to the way blood spread down my face. “Oh,” I said, remembering.

“How do we get out of here?” I mumbled, looking around. There were no apparent exits; everything was dark and broken.

“Very difficultly,” he said. Jaime was strong. He didn’t look scared.

We crawled around indistinguishable yet clearly broken things, getting scraped up by broken glass in the process. “Jaime,” I whined. Everything started to hurt all of a sudden, my numbness was fading.

“Come on, it’s okay,” he said. “Look, here.” Jaime moved something out of the way, and finally! there was an exit. A small opening, but definitely leading to the outside. “Go ahead.”

I pushed my way out, and when I got the taste of fresh air I collapsed on the pavement, probably onto more shards of glass. It was still raining, so everything was cold. I felt Jaime collapse next to me.

He put his hand on the small of my back, helping me up. “We need to find help.”

We stood up and stumbled around. Where was Tony? Mike? Vic? Half-on and half-off of our mangled tour bus was a big trailer truck. And then on the other side of our bus was a second truck. Our bus was sandwiched and squished and I was utterly surprised that I was alive.

“Tony! Mike! There you are!” Jaime stumbled over to them, who were lying on the gravel twenty feet in front of us.

They sat up, looking disoriented. “How did you guys get out?” I asked breathlessly.

They shook their heads. “We didn’t.” Oh. They were thrown from the bus, I concluded.

“Guys, where is Vic?” I asked, my voice high pitched. Mike’s face was rigid.

“Where’s Vic?” I asked again. Mike stood up.

“Where is Vic?” I repeated severely. Mike grabbed my hand and led me back to the bus. “Oh, God, he must still be in there.”

“I’ll go,” he said, pushing me back.

“You’re too tall, Mike, and you’re hurt worse than I am. Let me go,” I pressed. Mike looked worried.

“I’ll be right here,” he finally said. I looked back; Jaime was attending to Tony, who was drenched in blood.

I crawled back through the small opening, and it hurt. But I was more concerned with Vic at this point, not myself.

“Vic?” I called out into the darkness. “Vic?”

I heard nothing, still.

I scanned every inch of the bus, climbing over various obstacles, but there was still no sign of Vic.

I put my hand to my chest; I was having trouble breathing; I was having a panic attack. I stopped moving for a moment, and I tucked my knees into my chest, crying. “Vic…” I cried.

“I…I can’t find him, Mike,” I said, but I didn’t think he could hear me. I took five deep breaths, burying my face in my hands.

When I looked up, I saw something flicker before my eyes.

A hand. I screamed. I found him! I found him! But no words came out as I scrambled over to him. There was debris, over him, like cabinets and glass and God knows what else. I cleared it to the best of my ability, slicing my hands in the process. They stung and bled, but I didn’t pay attention. I shook Vic.

“Vic, wake up,” I said firmly. Nothing.

“Vic. It’s me. Wake up,” I shook him again.

“M-m-mike! I… I f-found him!” I yelled for Mike.

I shook Vic again, but his eyes remained closed and his limbs remained in unnatural positions, which could only mean one thing.

“I—need—help!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, yanking at his lifeless body at each syllable.

I heard glass crunching behind me. Tears were streaming down my face, and I couldn’t breathe.

“Jaime, help me,” I said to Jaime. He looked sad. He shouldn’t look like that yet. “Jaime,” I said again.

“Go,” Jaime said, letting me exit first. I watched as he hooked his arms through Vic’s underarms, dragging him through the only exit. The glass and other debris he picked up by being dragged were the least of his problems.

Breathless, Jaime gently laid Vic down onto the cold pavement. It was still storming.

“Vic,” I said lowly into his emotionless face.

“Do you know CPR?” Jaime asked, his voice breaking. I nodded, thanking God I learned in health class in high school.

I began the thirty compressions, tears pouring from my eyes almost like the rain. I choked on my own sobs. Then I leaned down, gently pushing his angelic head back by raising his chin. I held his nose with one hand, and then I gave him two rescue breaths. Flawless CPR, the way I was taught. But it wouldn’t be enough. I continued this cycle over and over again. I wouldn’t dare stop until help arrived.

And when help finally arrived, I was ripped away from my Vic without warning. Many paramedics surrounded him, so I couldn’t see him. I wanted to see him though. I needed to see him. I tried to push my way back, but Mike constrained me.

“Mike! Let—me—go!” I choked, trying to escape. But he was too strong. I conceded into his arms and we held each other, both of us crying, both of our emotions slowly draining away.

Notes

The next few chapters may be a bit sad, i wrote them last night while beinig in a crappy mood soooo this happened haha i apologize for that
but anyway! i needed something interesting to happen, and the only thing i could think of was something bad soo yeah Why is it that when we want to make something action packed and interesting we always make it sad/tragic/lifethreatening? hmm

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