Hold on

 I wonder what my life would be like now if I didn't go outside that night? Would I be dead, or find my way to him anyway? I loved him even before I knew him. Here's how it all started.

He was facing the opposite way of the bus coming down the road and staring up at the beautiful night sky. I didn't blame him, the sky was almost as gorgeous as last night with my dad, but why wasn't he moving? I could clearly hear the roar of the bus over the blaring music outside. Why couldn't he? 

 Then it hit me; there were a total of three houses on this road, one located on the peak of the hill, my house, and Lucy's old house. This kid was going to be my neighbor. He lived in Lucy's old house. 

 As I looked at him standing so perfectly a new panic arose in my head, he was not moving and a full-size school bus was charging down the road directly at him. Would the bus stop in time? Would they even notice him? All these questions were traveling through my head so fast. The roaring bus started getting louder and louder and closer and closer to the boy. The blinding headlights of the bus were siring into his back. My mind wailed, “WHY IS HE NOT MOVING???” 

 “MOVE” I screeched to the boy at the top of my lungs, my voice burning with pain. “MOVE, MOVE, MOVE” my voice broke as the bus started getting very close to him. This guy was ignoring me and he would die because of it. 

 “MOVE” I cried again, tears swelling up in my eyes, and my cheeks flaming with rage. The tears overflowed, trickling down my cheek as I saw a white thing in the boy's ear. He was wearing AirPods and listening to music so he had no idea that this bus was going to rub him into the street. 

 I pushed my voice louder than it has ever reached before to try and get it so he could hear me over his blaring music. “MOOOOOVE” I hollered at the boy with my voice volume turned up past 100. He did not budge, still gazing at the sky admiring the shining stars and full moon. 

 My legs reflexed in seeing his stiff body have no reaction to my yell. I dashed through the street with the bus yards away. The breaks were screeching, trying to stop but still flying. I was going to save him. I felt obligated to do so even if I were to die for him. 

 I kept running as fast as I could and moments before I pushed the boy out of the road he saw the bright lights of the bus. His head turned to face it, his eyes soaked in fear, and at that moment I had no regrets in saving him. 

 While I hesitated to see his panic I thought I was going to be too late to save him and that we would both die. My mind wailed “WHY HIM?” Out of all the people in the world why would this have to happen to him. I felt like I relished this boy and I didn't even know him yet, I didn't even know his name or what his face looked like. 

 But then the palms of my hands reached him, and as my hand touched his bulky muscular back I forced all my energy and strength into getting him out of the street. He dove with my help out of the road crashing on the pavement. He was saved! He was going to live! Relief filled my chest as I assured he was out of the bus's path, I braced myself for my worst fear. I was going to die from this bus, I recognized. But I was proud that this was the way I was going to die. I was already in pain and bruised from today's first incident so I knew that if I could barely bear the pain now what would it feel like while I was dying.  

 Before it hit me I saw the boy's eyes through my burry tears engulfing my eyes. He was staring at me with terror. I had done the right thing and he was safe; I repeated in my head over and over convincing myself and taking my mind off the bus. As the bus collided into me the pain felt unbearably agonizing. Way worse than Tyler's punch to my eye. 

  I tried not to let out a scream to make the boy feel bad or guilty but it slipped through, I was in excruciating pain, I bet everybody at the party could hear my bloody screech over the music. The pain dragged on and on. I just wanted it to be done, for it to end. The bus came all so sudden but the terrible part was dragging on so long. 

 I felt something wet and warm moistening my skin only to realize it was my blood. My eyes blacked out as my nerves sensed my shattered bones and the piercing pain of my crushed body. What would my parents say, or think? How would this boy feel while he was attending my funeral and he knew he was the reason that I was dead? I hope that he will not feel accusable about my death. 

 My skin was raw and ravaged, my chest was wheezing for air, attempting to get some, any small bit. But my lungs collapsed. It was like I was suffocating and gurgling in my own blood. My whole throat felt as though it was on fire and someone poured gasoline down it to make it explode. I overheard voices around me but I couldn't find the strength to tell them to kill me. My voice was weak and I struggled to breathe, I just wanted to tell them to conclude my pain and suffering. The voices died off and my body felt numb which was a relief. My eyes were still black, and the only thing I could do was count each shallow heartbeat, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104. Every thump could possibly be my last so I was prepared for anything. As time went on and my heart beats got slower and weaker I could feel my end coming soon, It was finally going to be over! 

* * *

 I sensed myself giving up on my life, wishing it was over when really I should be fighting like hell for it. At that moment I realized what my fear was. All my life I don't understand and then when I’m dying I finally crack the case. 

 Haven't your friends, teachers, even parents asked you at some point in your life what your worst fear was? I have gone through that. Every stage in your life is different; Kindergarten was snakes; Third grade was grizzly bears, and middle school was sharks because your mom told you that one bedtime story when your parents were on their honeymoon in Hawaii; and they saw a surfboard sized fin following their low fuel wave runner. 

    But the truth has always been the same, deep down in the pit of your gut. You have always known what it was, those former fears were just costumes; you were afraid of what they would do to you, not the thing itself. Never have you admitted it because it sounded foolish. But as the years went on and the number of great’s in front of your family member's name’s started going away it became more and more prominent, like there was a fog mask that disappeared. DEATH!

    Only did that go through my head when I thought that I had to face my only fear, but I thought about it more. I found something that was worse while I was digging, something that I would trade for death any day. Wouldn't you do the same? It would be a proud way to die knowing that you had saved someone you loved. I felt pride in my impending death, it was the true thing to do, save the boy. 

    I felt the twilight creeping into night, the dark and gloominess taking me over. The only thing evident was a shrimp light far ahead. At least I was going to heaven, after all I was just a teenager. Faces were floating through my head, my incredible dad first, he was always my most favorite person, then my gentle mom who was there for me for everything, my grandma who we regularly refer to as an angel, and then finally I saw the boy. 

    There was a weight pulling me, I was not sure what way it was pulling but I fought it with all the strength I had. Hoping, praying that I could do it for my family.