The paramedic wraps a blanket around my shoulders as I sit in the back of his ambulance. I know what happened, but I'm still not sure what happened. The roads weren't slick, it had just started to snow. The snow wasn't even sticking and it isn't cold enough for ice. I had the green light.
I know I got hit hard enough to flip my car and deploy the airbag. I just don't know how I got hit. Nobody else was on the road. I don't even know how I got in the back of this ambulance. I must have blacked out for a moment. It wouldn't be hard to believe looking at the boomerang shaped pile of metal that used to be my car.
"Excuse me, could you tell me what happened," I ask a firefighter walking by.
"Looks like you got taken out by a drunk driver buddy," he tips his hat and walks off.
A drunk driver? At 4pm on a weekday? Who even does that? I hop out of the back of the ambulance looking for the other driver. My ankle hurts with every step I take. I don't think it's broke, just hurt badly. That's when I spot it, a green BMW. The front end is crushed. This car took me out for sure. There's no windshield and I can't see where the driver would be. Ah, another ambulance. I make my way over.
"Can't go over there," a police officer stops me before I can get too close.
"Why not? That person hit me," I argue, but I'm not sure I believe myself.
"Unless you want to see a dead body, you can't go over there."
"Oh."
"Oh, is right. Had to scrape the poor sap off the asphalt and the sidewalk. Still smelled like a brewery."
"Oh."
