Alright, so I'm dreaming that I'm driving down the main riverside street of the little suburbia in which Busta and I live. For point of reference to him, this all takes place right before the entrance to the old Bi-lo, if you're coming from the fire house. For everyone else, the entrance to a large parking lot on my right and to my left a row of houses, beyond which is a river.
As I drive along, I come across a horrible accident which was so powerful the cars literally sheered one another in half as they passed, leaving only the driver's half of the car partially in tact. Where the tail of one car ends, the tail of the other car begins. The metal is all bent back and twisted around, the doors have all fallen off their hinges, and the roofs have been hurled to places beyond. All that remains is two drivers, still in their seats, facing the original direction they are going and are "passed" the other car.
I quickly spring out of my car to see if I can help, dialing 911 as I run. An ambulance is on the way. In the car closest to me, facing the opposite direction I was driving, lies a beautiful brunette girl that must have been in her late teens or early twenties. As I scan her body, she seems to be completely uninjured from her waist up. I decide immediately not to move her in case of a spinal cord injury. As I continue to scan her body for injury, I look down her legs and notice that her right leg seems limp below the knee. During the accident her right leg had been severed right below the knee by a twisted metal knife which used to be the metal beam that separated the car's front door from back. The leg had completely severed but her jeans remained in tact. Her severed leg lies bleeding on the footmat below. I tell her to stay calm as I go to check on the other driver. I run around the car and I see a middle aged gray haired man with a 5 o'clock shadow whose neck is clearly snapped. I take a pulse on both his neck and wrist. He is dead.
I run back to the girl. She is panicked and frightened. I try to calm her and tell her it will be alright. I tell her she's bleeding a lot but she should be fine. I find her a blanket to keep warm; to help control her shock. Over the course of the next minute, she reveals to me everything about her life in gasps of hurried and panicked storytelling. Her name, Samantha, no longer just an unknown woman now, tells me everything about her life. She begs me to hold her to keep her warm; I do. She starts again with the details of her life. She whispers each story directly into my ear. Samantha tells me about her boyfriend, of which she's having problems. Samantha tells me how she went to beauty college for two semesters before dropping out for financial reasons. Samantha tells me of her life, which she believes was wasted, to me, a total stranger. This gorgeous woman confides in me her life story, no doubt because she fears she will die in that very spot at any moment. She tells me she feels weak...
She has lost a lot of blood. The beam that severed her leg had also acted as a turnakit, slowing the flow of her blood by pinching her leg where it was severed. It has been several minutes since I called the ambulance. How could they not be here by now. I check my watch. Only a few minutes have passed but it seems like an eternity. I scavenge around to find someway to her survive. Nothing underneath the seat, nothing in the other drivers car, and suddenly... I spot a dashboard across the road. I open it up. Inside is a short medical tube with a small needle on one end and a long needle on the other. A thought crosses my mind. I run back to her. "What blood type are you!?" She tells me she is B+, same as me. Without hesitation, I stick her arm with the short needle. The tube is short so I lie nearly on top of her. She looks at me with alarm and confusion. Without answer, I plunge the long needle into my own heart. As I bleed, I see color returning to her face. I feel warmth returning to her cheeks. I see a bleak smile appear on her face as she realizes what I had done for her. We stare, eye to eye, without speaking a word... relying on one another now to survive. Suddenly she cries out in pain...
Her leg, which had been doped by natural endorphins, was it starting to hurt? I spring up pulling the syringe from her arm, the needle still lodged in my chest. She tells me to check her leg at the site of the cut. With all my strength, I tear her jeans from their base up to her right hip. I peel them away to reveal, at my amazement, her leg beginning to reform. I check her severed leg, it remains on the floormat. This is no illusion, no trick, her leg is simply regrowing at an amazing rate! When all of a sudden it stops... I look at her in confusion. She asks me to lay back down beside her. I had ripped her jeans too high, she is cold. I lay beside her, nearly on top of her, as I had before... looking up her leg that had just done the most miraculous thing. I looked up her leg to her thigh... she did seem cold. I had ripped it so high I had accidentally revealed her peach lace underwear. I tried not to think about it. I had to focus on her survival. My own instinctual thoughts could wait. I stick her arm again with the short end of the needle. Again, the leg begins to regrow...
I look at her, her at me... and for the first time we both feel overwhelmed with hope. She's beaming from ear to ear now, squinting ever so often from the pain of the growth. She reaches up with her hand and wipes my face. I had been crying and never realized it. Her leg is almost fully regrown now. Her toes are forming and hair is beginning to appear right below the knee. I asked her why she didn't remember to shave for me. She grins slyly. We both laugh. I hold Samantha closer. I can't help but to hug her. She holds me back. After awhile, she tells me she believes its all over. I tell her not to move for I still fear a spinal cord injury. I remove her needle and mine. I go to stand up but I've lost my strength.
On the horizon I can see the ambulances begin to arrive. Both our hearts flutter with joy... they beat together now, as one. She asks me for a kiss. My heart nearly explodes with excitement. I lean down and kiss her, my Samantha, with everything I had to offer in a kiss. Everything felt right in the world... and then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back. A paramedic stood over me, glaring at me in horror. I look back at Samantha. She's dead. What happened? Her neck... it's snapped. When did this happen? I hear yelling... I spring to my feet. My strength had returned? I see a middle aged man with a grayed 5 o'clock shadow in the passenger seat of the other car screaming. His leg... it's severed. My heart... fails. They cannot revive me.
As I drive along, I come across a horrible accident which was so powerful the cars literally sheered one another in half as they passed, leaving only the driver's half of the car partially in tact. Where the tail of one car ends, the tail of the other car begins. The metal is all bent back and twisted around, the doors have all fallen off their hinges, and the roofs have been hurled to places beyond. All that remains is two drivers, still in their seats, facing the original direction they are going and are "passed" the other car.
I quickly spring out of my car to see if I can help, dialing 911 as I run. An ambulance is on the way. In the car closest to me, facing the opposite direction I was driving, lies a beautiful brunette girl that must have been in her late teens or early twenties. As I scan her body, she seems to be completely uninjured from her waist up. I decide immediately not to move her in case of a spinal cord injury. As I continue to scan her body for injury, I look down her legs and notice that her right leg seems limp below the knee. During the accident her right leg had been severed right below the knee by a twisted metal knife which used to be the metal beam that separated the car's front door from back. The leg had completely severed but her jeans remained in tact. Her severed leg lies bleeding on the footmat below. I tell her to stay calm as I go to check on the other driver. I run around the car and I see a middle aged gray haired man with a 5 o'clock shadow whose neck is clearly snapped. I take a pulse on both his neck and wrist. He is dead.
I run back to the girl. She is panicked and frightened. I try to calm her and tell her it will be alright. I tell her she's bleeding a lot but she should be fine. I find her a blanket to keep warm; to help control her shock. Over the course of the next minute, she reveals to me everything about her life in gasps of hurried and panicked storytelling. Her name, Samantha, no longer just an unknown woman now, tells me everything about her life. She begs me to hold her to keep her warm; I do. She starts again with the details of her life. She whispers each story directly into my ear. Samantha tells me about her boyfriend, of which she's having problems. Samantha tells me how she went to beauty college for two semesters before dropping out for financial reasons. Samantha tells me of her life, which she believes was wasted, to me, a total stranger. This gorgeous woman confides in me her life story, no doubt because she fears she will die in that very spot at any moment. She tells me she feels weak...
She has lost a lot of blood. The beam that severed her leg had also acted as a turnakit, slowing the flow of her blood by pinching her leg where it was severed. It has been several minutes since I called the ambulance. How could they not be here by now. I check my watch. Only a few minutes have passed but it seems like an eternity. I scavenge around to find someway to her survive. Nothing underneath the seat, nothing in the other drivers car, and suddenly... I spot a dashboard across the road. I open it up. Inside is a short medical tube with a small needle on one end and a long needle on the other. A thought crosses my mind. I run back to her. "What blood type are you!?" She tells me she is B+, same as me. Without hesitation, I stick her arm with the short needle. The tube is short so I lie nearly on top of her. She looks at me with alarm and confusion. Without answer, I plunge the long needle into my own heart. As I bleed, I see color returning to her face. I feel warmth returning to her cheeks. I see a bleak smile appear on her face as she realizes what I had done for her. We stare, eye to eye, without speaking a word... relying on one another now to survive. Suddenly she cries out in pain...
Her leg, which had been doped by natural endorphins, was it starting to hurt? I spring up pulling the syringe from her arm, the needle still lodged in my chest. She tells me to check her leg at the site of the cut. With all my strength, I tear her jeans from their base up to her right hip. I peel them away to reveal, at my amazement, her leg beginning to reform. I check her severed leg, it remains on the floormat. This is no illusion, no trick, her leg is simply regrowing at an amazing rate! When all of a sudden it stops... I look at her in confusion. She asks me to lay back down beside her. I had ripped her jeans too high, she is cold. I lay beside her, nearly on top of her, as I had before... looking up her leg that had just done the most miraculous thing. I looked up her leg to her thigh... she did seem cold. I had ripped it so high I had accidentally revealed her peach lace underwear. I tried not to think about it. I had to focus on her survival. My own instinctual thoughts could wait. I stick her arm again with the short end of the needle. Again, the leg begins to regrow...
I look at her, her at me... and for the first time we both feel overwhelmed with hope. She's beaming from ear to ear now, squinting ever so often from the pain of the growth. She reaches up with her hand and wipes my face. I had been crying and never realized it. Her leg is almost fully regrown now. Her toes are forming and hair is beginning to appear right below the knee. I asked her why she didn't remember to shave for me. She grins slyly. We both laugh. I hold Samantha closer. I can't help but to hug her. She holds me back. After awhile, she tells me she believes its all over. I tell her not to move for I still fear a spinal cord injury. I remove her needle and mine. I go to stand up but I've lost my strength.
On the horizon I can see the ambulances begin to arrive. Both our hearts flutter with joy... they beat together now, as one. She asks me for a kiss. My heart nearly explodes with excitement. I lean down and kiss her, my Samantha, with everything I had to offer in a kiss. Everything felt right in the world... and then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back. A paramedic stood over me, glaring at me in horror. I look back at Samantha. She's dead. What happened? Her neck... it's snapped. When did this happen? I hear yelling... I spring to my feet. My strength had returned? I see a middle aged man with a grayed 5 o'clock shadow in the passenger seat of the other car screaming. His leg... it's severed. My heart... fails. They cannot revive me.