I Always Wanted to Save a Life by Samantha Elliott At 17, I was quickly becoming a hero. EMS classes every Tuesday and Thursday prepped me for what would happen in the real world, until everything I studied for months was erased from my mind faster than the sneeze that escaped you, and caused your death. Your silver Rav-4 caught on the ravine and cart wheeled through the field. You pounded the windshield going 75. I didn’t recognize you at first, but your left arm that was wrapped around your torso quartered the same maroon and white bracelets I proudly wore. The transparent chunks of glass were now painted in reds, pinks, and fleshy tones and your blonde hair was mangled, coated and sticky with the same chaos. When you landed in the field hundreds of feet away from your vehicle, the earth’s paint became yours. I never saw you wear brown so brilliantly, or accessorize with gravel and sagebrush. The sound of gargling and life evading you was all I could hear. The smell of soil and iron bombarded my nostrils as I took a knee next to your mangled corpse. No breathing. No pulse. The procedure of CPR seemed foreign to me. All that plagued my thoughts was your family and how I had just witnessed my best friend lose his sister. As the sun took it last bit of light beneath the horizon, The doctors pronounced you dead and I turned in my ambulance keys. 88 theMeadow
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