teh Wrecks

1/10
My runs consisted of the back roads of the town. The sun settling into the mountains, it was
finallystarting to cool down after the long day in September. Iturned down the gravel lot by a nearby
lake house. Manytrees grew there, so dense. While turning into the gravel lot, Inoticed a few of the
shrubs parted into the many trees. I've taken this route for months now, and I knew the landscape by
heart. Iabruptly stopped and found myself peering over past the foliage and down the bank. Squinting,
and trying to look past the thick forest, Ifollowed a single tire track, where they dug deep into the soil,
near the stop of the tracks, Ifound a tragedy.
From what Icould make from the street, a glimmer of metal was deep within the trees. Running
closer, I could see it. A black, gold streaked motorcycle turned on its side. Dashing as quickly as I could to
the scene, I tripped over something. Adusty, worn out boot with the laces entangled in themselves was
staring at me and I panicked. There was someone here. Ifuriously looked around to see if I could 'catch a
glimpse of anything out of the ordinary, but nothing struck me. Sprinting to the bike Ifelt the beat up
exterior of the now scrap metal near a strong oak tree. There was no smoke, no sound of a man, just the
crinklingsound of my sneakers touching the floor of the woods and my heart pounding out of my chest.
The sweat hit my lips and as the salty perspiration touched my tongue, Isaw a man about ten
yards past me. I sprinted deeper within the shrubs and trees. Ilooked down and saw his raggedy doll like
body, draped in his soiled clothes in an oversized leather jacket. Hisface, caked with dirt and the soil
from the forest floor. Acut from his right side of the mouth almost made him seem likehe was smiling.
From his crooked lips, came a putrid smell. The scent of mygrandfather's old bottle of whiskey came to
mind. His eyes were shut and I bent down to see if he was breathing. I shook him, and shook him, but no
response. I rushed through his soft leather coat for anything, a cellular phone, a wallet. Nothing was left
in his possession,nothing but lint from the corners of his pockets.
I had to react. No time to catch my breath, I sprinted towards the old gravel road. Passingthe
metal scrapthat lay near the tree, past the boot caked with the clay of the woods, past the disaster. I
ran my heart out, down the road, finally snaking into the nearest town. Just the sight of that young kid,
laying there helplessly was engraved in my mind. It was nearly dark now, and squinted to keep my eyes
in focus through the gloomy path. I finally saw the old, familiar market at the fork in the road. I
screamed for help, a phone, anything that could help this.guy. An elderly bearded man jumped out of
his hardwood chair, exclaimed, and pointed towards the phone. I had no time to explain the situation to
the rickety old gentleman; I swiftly got to the old pay phone where two cinderblocks walls met in the
back. My clammy hands could barely take a hold of the plastic phone, but I managed to get my nimble
fingers to dial 911.


-~ -- -



2010
It was a quiet, yet cold and snowy night around the middle of January when
I heard the loud screech of tires on the road, and noticed a car smashing into a tree.
It was a small car, blue in color, and wet because of the snow. The car looked as if
it had been completely destroyed. I pulled up beside the vehicle and walked up to
it, considering there were no emergency response vehicles in sight. I saw a face,
the face of a young woman, possibly in her mid-twenty's. She was conscious, with
her pupils fully dilated, and in obvious pain. She was screaming to the point where
she could barely scream anymore. I wasn't sure if most of the pain was from the
long, deep wound in her left cheek, or from the pen that was forced into the side of
her thigh. There were no passengers in the car. The woman glared at me without
moving her head as if her neck was in pain as well. The driver door was smashed
in, both tail-lights were out, and the hood was slightly dented. I knocked on the
window while she continued to scream with tears rolling down her cheeks. She
reached for the automatic window button and rolled it half-way down. I informed
her that help was on the way and asked her to try and stay calm. She slowly and
painfully nodded her head: I stood with her until the fire department arrived at the
scene. The young woman thanked me as a walked away to explain to law
enforcement everything I saw. The policemen told me that it was alright for me to
leave, so I went home. I can only imagine how the woman felt after being in that