Car Crash

He switched off the cars ignition and took in the mangled wreck. She was fortunate to survive, the bride that is. The groom however, unfortunately was not going to live through the accident. Even with the best doctors on call and standing ready, the newly wed was not going to live to see the sunrise, or be able to kiss his wife again. He was pinned between the chair and the dashboard of the 2002 eclipse, the windshield had slid in a
unkind way to sever the man just under his torso.
The other medics, clustered behind the car, waiting for me to finish the dreaded part of the night, were calling his next of kin.
There was a cellphone ringing in the back of the car, a child was singing... "You're phone is ringing silly head!" repeatedly. The man smiled in the front seat even though his breathing was becoming more labored. "That's her cellphone," he whispered. "She's the first on my ICE list." He had a slight accent on the ICE, almost like he was saying hice like lice instead of ICE. He asked for my cellphone and asked if he could leave a voicemail on her phone, "Just in case if I don't make it." He added. I obliged and dialed the number for the dying man.
The cell phone rang again in the back, but this time we knew who was on the other end. It let the voicemail pick up and the unfortunate groom began speaking. "Becky," he began, already a catch in his throat. He was
trying to be brave and not succeeding.
"Becky..." He tried again. "This is Rick, I love you and I always will. You were there for me in every possible way, there is no way I can repay you, not even after I made you the happiest woman in the world. Please make me the happiest angel and live for me now baby." The tell tale beep of a message running too long rang out of the mouthpiece.
I thought to myself that I should get a more updated phone. But never a better job. Although I hated to lose a person, a living breathing human being, no matter how far gone they were or if the world would be a better place with out the person, I still hated the weight I carried when I heard their last words or felt the last beat of their hearts as their lives ebbed away. I almost envied them, as their never perfect lives ended. When
Their eyes closed for the last time or when they stare off into their personal Nirvanas I often wish I knew what they were seeing. What loved ones they knew helped them cross pass the Holy Gate or whom they met on the other side of the white light. What waited for us on the other side? Was there one? I wasn't ready to find out myself and I was jarred out of my rev ire by the dying man. He had placed his bloodstained hand upon my medic robe and looked me in the eyes. It took all my will power to not mimic his tears as he voiced his last wish before he faded away, before his family could arrive.
"Please," he said, as tear broke free and rolled down his dirtied cheek. "Please take care of my angel." He was fading fast. I yelled for another attendant but I knew in my heart as Rick and I were in held each other in the often seen poses of medics and their patients that help would not arrive in time. "My Angel." Rick repeated. "Take care of my angel. I trust you..." And Rick was gone. He had gone beyond, and like most accident victims, he was watching something on the other side. Reverently I closed his eyes, bloodstained as they were from keeping Rick from falling over in the precarious position that he was sitting in, when he was alive. The photographers from the police station dispatched around the accident, trying to catch every Last detail of the gruesome crash. I wished that Rick didn't have to die, as I often wish for all those that I am witness to die. Gone, and on the best day of his life too. On his wedding day. Rotton day for a wedding it was, downpouring. Heck, the windshield whipers were still whipping back and forth against a missing windshield.
The poor girl needed twenty stitches and her arm needed to be reset too, I could tell this from where I was sitting next to Rick, her dead husband. As for the apparant coma she was in, well, who knew how long she was going to be in that for. I fished around in the shambled backseat for a pocketbook of some sort so I could find out who they were. To my surprise there was her name, ReBecca Angel Frome. So she was an Angel.