I Crashed My Car And The Only Person Around To Help Is The Strange Man Lurking Outside

I slowly started to become more aware of where I was and what had happened, my vision came back stronger but my mind raced just as as fast as before. I was pressed against the roof of the car, my lungs ached with every breath I took, but I could feel all my limbs and as far as I knew, I wasn’t bleeding anywhere substantially. It was nighttime outside, and a faint light shone somewhere—the headlights? My window was broken and the windshield was a spiderweb of fractures, impossible to see out of. I had no idea where I was. My airbag had gone off and wound deflated in my hands. And I was trapped, pinned underneath the steering wheel and, presumably, the crumpled car.

I reached my bloodied hand over and gripped Ben’s bloodied arm—warm, alive. I shook him as hard as my weakened arms would let me.

“B-Ben,” I coughed, blood catching my voice. “Ben, wake—wake up, Ben.” His eyes remained closed, and he was as still as before. He was okay. He was alive, I told myself, backing the panic back down to where I could control it.

My eyes fell to my smart watch, a gift from—someone, I couldn’t remember. But I did remember it could ping my phone, and I could call for help. If my phone wasn’t destroyed. I drew my hand back from Ben’s form and flipped my finger across the cracked screen. I could feel my phone’s vibration in my pocket. I must have never taken it out. I pulled my hands up to my pocket and slipped it out, but a sudden burst of pain made my drop it and cry out—but it was no use. The screen turned on, and I could vaguely see the tiny letters in the corner—NO SERVICE.

I let out a strangled cry. How was I supposed to fix this? They don’t teach you how to survive car wrecks, or even what to do. I didn’t know where I was, I didn’t know what to do. Was I supposed to wait until someone drove down the same road? How long would that take? Hours, days even. I didn’t even know where to start.

Ben would know what to do. I stretched out again, and gripped his arm in desperation. “Ben, please wake up. Wake up! I need your help,” I whimpered, desperate. he would remember what happened and what to do. He would know what to do, he just had to wake up.

I heard it then. Crunching of boots on broken glass. There was someone out there, walking around my car. Why hadn’t they tried to help us? What were they doing?

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