Narrative Robert Leonard/20496360 Summerfield Ct,

Narrative

Robert Leonard/20496360

Summerfield Ct, Ste 273

Hilton Head, SC. 29926

It was a bloody mess. As I looked down at my hands in anguish I realized that it was not just my appendages that were bloody, but the entire front of my shirt was streaked amber red and the tops of my jeans were much darker as well.

A looked down at the body of a young girl, it was blackened with mud, and smelled like gasoline and burnt rubber. Of course, that could have been the environment and not her, but I was too anxious to tell the difference.

There was a deep gash along her forehead, and a puddle of coagulating fluid pooled under her blonde hair that spilled out like a fan from her head. Rich, dark blood seeped from the gash as a weak pulse intermittently throbbed, informing me that she was still alive, though barely. I could smell death, and it smelled like me.

Taking a quick glance at my wristwatch I realized that only five minutes had passed since I had come upon this young lady as she attempted to pull herself from an upside down jeep that had overturned in a small, overgrown ditch at the side of back road. I must have arrived on the scene shortly after the incident had taken place, the back tires on the overturned jeep were spinning. Later I realized that the engine of the jeep was still running and that the car was in drive, but that was after months of listening to the roaring sound in my ears late at night.

A returned my attention to the girl, and so that her eyes had opened. They were the darkest blue-hued eyes I had ever seen. It was then that I noticed her lips moving, and heard a whistling sound over the whining engine at the edge of my consciousness. Leaning forward over her mouth, I asked her, "What do you want, can I do anything?"

She breathed out so quietly I almost did not catch it, "Where's Eric?" looked into her eyes again, and mesmerized by their depth, I replied, "Who's Eric?"

Again she breathed the words, "Where's Eric."

Looking over at the jeep I could see through the hanging door that there was no one in the front seat of the vehicle. I looked down at her again to see that her eyes had now shut and her breath was coming in a shallow manner, much more so than just half a minute before. Her life seemed to be seeping away. I pushed her hair away from her mouth to keep her airway clear, and tried to tilt her head back, but as I did so, she gave a small gasp, and quit breathing.

Frightened now by this event, I pried her mouth open and leaning over I placed my mouth over hers and exhaled. I watched as her chest expanded with the incoming air and then as it slowly compressed again. I tried again, and then again. I put my ear next to her heart and her rough-spun flannel shirt brushed against my ear as I listened for her heartbeat. It was not audible. I made a hammer with my two fists and struck her chest.

In a desperate attempt to save this young girl's life, employed all the life-saving techniques I had been taught as a coach and a lifeguard who was constantly around young children, but in the end it was too no avail.

Exhausted, I glanced around, surveying the scene. It was not until then that I noticed the sound of a siren in the distance, slowly coming closer. "Excellent," I thought, "but a bit late, I'm afraid." I glanced back over my shoulder and noticed that the wheels had quit spinning and I was in a much quieter environment now. The engine had stopped, and the silence was as if in remembrance of a young, vibrant life passing to the next world.