There was a lady riding her bike.
She was peaceful ready to take on the day.
She was not ready though.
She was not ready to take the pain,
the trauma,
the crash.
It happened all so fast.
One minute she was happy,
the next she was being dragged by a car.
The next she was hurt.
The next hour she was in the hospital.
Never had I ever seen so many tears.
But they were not mine, they were hers.
A year passed.
She was fine, recovered biking again,
ready to take on the day.
But not ready to take it a second time.
Sirens wailing.
It was a déjà vu.
There she was again back in the hospital.
So many tears, but they were not mine.
Two years passed.
She is alive, all well.
But she is different.
I am here now.
The crash, the trauma, all catching up to me.
So many tears.
This time they were mine.
Depression, anxiety.
Suicidal thoughts, plans.
Who knew such pain would come.
Who knew I would be the one crying.
Who knew I could be the one dying.
Author Notes: I want to thank all of the people who supported me through these event. I want to thank rose, for inspiring me to write about the things that hurt me the most. I want to thank Faith, Feminist123, rose, Lise_d, nepenthixwriter, and many more.
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United States • 18 years old