5. Ethan: Aftermath

Ethan's point of view:

I sped through the streets, my heart racing with fear. The girl's limp body lay in the passenger seat, her bright red hair stark against the dark leather. I couldn't believe what had just happened.

I couldn’t help but blame myself, it’s been a long while since I’ve been behind the wheel. My driver, Ben, had a family emergency, so I gave him the day off. I should have ordered an Uber or called my grandfather’s driver to take me home. I missed the feeling of taking charge of the car at the steering wheel. Now look where that landed me.

As I drove, I couldn't shake the image of her pale face from my mind. Who was she? And what had I done?

I finally arrived at the hospital, screeching to a halt in front of the emergency department. I leaped out of the car, rushing to her side. I gently lifted her out of the passenger seat, cradling her in my arms.

The automatic doors slid open, and I sprinted through them, desperate for help. A team of medical professionals rushed towards us, quickly taking her from me.

"Please, you have to help her," I begged, feeling a wave of panic wash over me.

The doctors and nurses moved with precision, their faces a blur of efficiency. I watched in a daze as they wheeled her away, feeling helpless.

I followed them to the exam room, my mind racing with fear. What if she didn't make it? What if I had killed her?

The doctors began their examination, their voices a steady stream of medical jargon. I stood back, feeling useless.

One of the doctors turned to me, a kind face amidst the chaos. "Sir, What is your name and can you tell me what happened?"

I took a deep breath, trying to recount the events leading up to the accident. “ My name is Ethan Grey, she was hit by my car , I didn’t see her , she came out of nowhere “ I rushed. The doctor listened intently, his expression growing more serious by the minute.

As I finished my story, the doctor nodded thoughtfully. "We'll do everything we can to help her," he said. "But I need to ask, do you know her name?"

I shook my head, feeling a pang of guilt. I didn't even know her name. She could be someone’s wife, mother or daughter.

Oh God, please let her pull through.

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "Don't worry, we'll take care of her. You can wait outside, we'll keep you updated."

I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I did everything I could. Now all I could do was wait.

I stepped out of the exam room, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over me. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to hum in sync with the racing thoughts in my mind. I couldn't shake the image of her pale face from my mind, her bright red hair stark against the dark leather of my car. I remembered the sound of her body hitting my car, the sickening thud that still echoed in my mind.

I made my way to the waiting room, my eyes scanning the space for a familiar face. But I was alone. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

As I sat in the waiting room, I couldn't help but notice the sterile glow of the fluorescent lights overhead. The air was thick with the scent of disinfectant and the faint tang of sickness, making my stomach turn. I fidgeted in my chair, trying to get comfortable, but the worn, beige cushions offered little support.

I glanced around the room, taking in the worried-looking faces of the other patients and family members. Some were typing away on their phones, while others stared blankly into space, lost in thought. I felt a pang of solidarity with them - we were all waiting for news, all hoping for the best.

My gaze drifted to the nurse's station, where a team of medical professionals bustled about, their faces focused on the task at hand. The soft beeps of machines and muted whispers of conversations filled the air, creating a sense of controlled chaos.

As I waited, my eyes wandered down the nearby hallway, where the sound of wheels on tiles echoed, accompanied by the occasional clang of a metal cart or the soft whoosh of automatic doors. I felt a sense of unease building in my chest, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

I stood up, needing to move, and walked over to the vending machine in the corner. I selected a bottle of water, the colorful snacks and drinks a jarring contrast to the otherwise drab surroundings. As I waited for my selection, I noticed the water cooler nearby, its clear plastic bottle half-full, as if waiting for the next thirsty visitor.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in my stomach. But it was no use - I was stuck in this limbo, waiting for news about the girl, wondering what the future held.

I couldn't help but think about what had happened. I had been driving home from work, distracted by my grandpa’s call, when I saw her. She was running from something .I had slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. I had hit her.

The memory of the accident played over and over in my mind like a bad movie. I remembered the sound of screeching tires, the crunch of metal, and the sight of her body flying through the air. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me, and I closed my eyes, trying to push the image away.

The sound of her body hitting my car still echoed in my mind.

I still needed to return my grandpa’s call. He must have been shocked by the way the call dropped.

After what felt like an eternity, a doctor emerged from the exam room. "Mr. Grey?" he said, his voice kind.

I stood up, my heart racing. "Yes?"

"She's stable," he said. "But she's got a concussion, a few bruises and a broken wrist. We're going to keep her here for a few days for observation in case of any internal bleeding later ."

I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. Relief, guilt, worry.

"Can I see her?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, of course. She has been moved to a patient’s room. But please, just for a minute. She needs her rest."

I nodded, following the doctor back to the exam room. As I entered, I saw her lying in the bed, her eyes closed. Her bright red hair was a stark contrast to the white hospital sheets.

I approached.