Road zipped past us, the individual pieces of gravel and dirt lost in the speed o four racing car. We passed other cars, which honked angrily, beeping their horns as we wove in and out of the traffic at impossible and illegal speeds.

"This is awesome! What a thrill!" My girlfriend yelled over the wind roaring through her open window. She was bracing herself by holding the top of the car through the window, her long blond hair lashing around like crazy as she tried to pull it out of her eyes with one hand.

My heart was racing, beating against my chest as I literally pushed the acceleration to the floor. Over the roaring wind that blinded us, and our laughter as people flipped us off in numerous different ways, sirens cut through it all.

But neither of us stopped smiling. "Let's play around with the cops a bit, eh, babe?" I leaned over the steering wheel, concentrating on not scraping my sports car on some old station wagon. We rounded a gentle curve created by a hill, and my adrenaline rush went from enjoyable to energized by fear.

There was a sharp turn up ahead, racing towards us at petrifying speed. I laid on the brakes, they screeched as they tried to slow the car, but we were moving to quickly. Too little, too late. I rounded the corner, spinning the wheel to lock to avoid driving over the edge of the road and into the valley bellow.

"Lucy!" I yelled, not taking my eyes off the road, trying desperately to get control of the car again, all the while accelerating again too keep ahead of the police, who had maneuvered their way ahead through traffic and done a tighter turn that I had.

"I'm okay," she replied breathlessly. "A little surprised, but. . ." She laughed a little, the kind of laugh that you do after you just get out of a tight situation.

At her light mood, I laughed as well. We both started guffawing, tears streaming down our faces. We said things incoherently when we had a little extra air, but tears streamed down our faces. We poked fun at the officer—now officers—who were tailing us, joking about how it was just like those crime shows when the crook decides to run. When the crooks. . .Something about that caught my attention, and it quieted me a bit. We were crooks. We were going to be arrested.

"Maybe we'll get on cops! Smile!" Lucy exclaimed. That one brought me to my knees, and I put my forehead on the steering wheel and laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. Again. "CAR!" Lucy's scream was shrill, an utter change from the laughter before that I didn't believe her at first.

But when I looked up, a red semi was heading right for us, a few feet away from us. There was nothing I could do but feel as our tiny sports car smashed into the huge truck, shattering the wind shield, glass shooting all over, cutting me. My seat belt cut into my neck and squeezed the breath out of me, but even as the air bag broke my nose and ribs, I was alive. Lucy wasn't.

Her seat belt hung limply, uselessly beside her seat. Her body, bleeding and broken, slid down the hood of the car. My cheek rested on the deflating airbag, I watched as she fell of the car, limp and unconscious. I managed to slip a word through my shaking lips, "Lucy. . ." And as that single helpless word fell out of my mouth, so did my consciousness. Nature's anesthetic.

The ambulance showed up shortly after, and one of the cops that I had been dissing pulled me out of the car and carried me to it. I wanted to sleep, wanted to have rest. But the thought of Lucy jerked me to life. They had to get her there first, to the hospital before she died, if she could be saved-"My girlfriend!" I slurred, unable to form the words I needed. "Lucy. . ."

They placed me on a gurney in the back of the ambulance, seeing what all was wrong with me, what was broken, and cleaning me up bit by bit.

In what seemed like no time yet forever we arrived at the hospital. I jumped out the doors before the paramedic had them half open, and followed the paramedics that were rolling Lucy away on a gurney. Shrugging off the nurses that chased me, that yelled at me, I followed her, she was my only thought. Because I killed her.

I was bleeding, broken in more than just my bones. It was like a dagger was buried deep in my heart. As I raced beside the hospital bed, urging her to wake up, picking pieces of glass out of Lucy's blond hair, a suffocating fear gripped my chest. "Wake up. . ." I sobbed out, and then I screamed it shrilly as a nurse pulled me away from her.

The nurse pulled me away from her as she disappeared into the OR, and I knew that would be the last time I saw her even remotely alive. I kept struggling. I wanted to see her, I wanted to keep her face burned into my memory, engrave her into my skin so I could never forget the look on her face right then, the last time I saw the last foolish lover I would ever hold close to my heart.