Fateful Accident

…Denice POV…

I have just lost both of my boys to the Marines. Now I know it is not something that I should feel sad about because the boys are doing something important. But most of all, they are doing something that they want. Yes, we all know that their father wanted them to become Doctors. Well, I am happy that they did not. What they do now also matters; they are making that difference.

To say that I was not shocked to hear about Matty wanting to join the Marines will be a blatant lie. At first, I thought that the boy was joking, but when he started packing his bag, I knew that he was serious. Now again, it was the worst day of my life watching one of my boys leave. At least, I know that they will come home.

Well, that is for Clayton; the boy just cannot keep himself out of trouble. But apparently, which he has not told me yet, for I heard it from Isabella, the man wants to go back and become something called a Raider. I can only think that it is something more dangerous. He has never been one to sit down and just do nothing. I do not see him staying long after the baby has been born; he will be going back. It is in his blood; it is what he does. Isabella will just have to understand that.

As for Matty, he is a lady's man; the chances that he will settle down is about the same as Richard taking me on a honeymoon again. But where Richard has brought me is out for dinner in the city. I think he feels a bit lost and bored without Matty around. He has changed; he is not the same man that used to joke around anymore. He does not even get upset with Betty. It is as if I am losing him. Guess the dinner is some time for us to try and come close to each other again.

So we have just left the restaurant and are making the long road home.

It is a cold rainy night; it has been an evening full of laughter and smiles, just Richard and me like we were before we had the boys. It is relatively late, and Richard feels confident making the long way home in this terrible weather. Now driving in the rain is not something that makes me feel at ease. I asked him to wait until it has at least stopped pouring down this hard. You can barely see the road surface as the raindrops pound hard on the tarmac.

Richard is going at a fairly decent speed, taking his time and safely navigating his way through the pouring rain. We are still very joyful and are making plans to go visit the boys in Pendleton next month.

With about half an hour into our trip, the car catches a big puddle on the road; the tires slip sharply to the right and then rapidly start to spin out of control. It feels almost like a minute from where the car flips into the air and tumbles several meters over the wet roads.

I feel my body jerk from one side to the other; underneath the thunder, I can hear Richard as he screams for me to hang on. Then as the car finally stops spinning, everything goes quiet.

I watch in horror as Richard lay all battered and bruised. I cannot see how wounded he is; I am trapped between the front seat and the dashboard. Richard, who failed to wear his seatbelt, has gone straight into the windscreen, he is slumped over, and I am not sure if he is alive or not.

Then the thought comes to my mind, is Richard dead?

I soon put the thoughts to the back of my mind and frantically try to reach for my cellphone that is on the side of the door. As I finally get hold of it, I phone for an ambulance, but it is far from the city and not even close to our town, we are going to wait at least half an hour for an ambulance. It is half an hour that Richard does not have.

After what seems more like a frustrating hour, they finally arrive and give me the news that Richard is still alive. But he is severely injured, and that the medics cannot tell me how severe it indeed was. All I know is that he is unconscious, and if we do not get him back to the hospital soon, he might never wake up.

So after having a struggle to get me out of the front seat of the car, we are finally in the back of the ambulance. Richard is ahead of me in another; they are racing and rushing with the best they got to get him there as soon as possible.

I cannot help but think to myself; maybe I should have driven; Richard did say he was tired. Perhaps if we did not drive in the rain, this would never have happened. But he was not driving fast; he did not see that puddle in the road. What if we left the restaurant sooner? What if we just stayed home? Then this would never have happened.

In moments of pure horror, there are so many 'what ifs.' One never knows if the decision you make is the right one.

As we get to the hospital, Richard and I are immediately taken to the Emergency Room to assess our injuries. I don't think I have felt the impact of the damage that has been done to my body. All I am thinking of is my husband.

After running us through tests and scans and finally splitting us up completely, I am left in a room to stare at nothing but a white ceiling.

Now, if I think that we will be receiving good news, if I thought that I would be so lucky, I was sorely mistaken. I have more broken bones inside me than I would have guessed, and there is some internal bleeding, which they have advised me that they should operate to stop.

As for Richard, they have not told me a single thing. All I know is that they have sent him for another scan and that he is still unconscious.

So here I am, lying and waiting, with not nearly as much damage to my body as Richard has. I am still fully conscious but in incredible pain.

What was a joyful night has now turned into horror? I don't know what I will do if something has to happen to Richard.

And as I watch each second tick by, I am finally taken into theatre. They have still not told me a thing about Richard. I keep on asking, and they keep on telling me that the Doctor will come to see me when he is ready.

It feels like while my own body seems to want to fail, that Richard might be losing his very own battle.

There is some sort of reality that settles over my body; what if we don't survive this? What if I go under and I never wake up.

So as they pull me into theatre, and I listen to these ungodly machines that are beeping next to me, I think of my two boys, and I wish that I had spoken to them this morning. I wish that Richard was there to tell them he loves them. Right now, our future is uncertain. Watching the tubes in my body, remembering the tubes that were in Richard. The needles in our hands, the very hands that should be holding each other. I slowly listen to this machine that is keeping my heart beating, and I know that somewhere here, there is one that is doing the same for Richard.

We should be home in our bed, not here, fighting.

And with that, I see the Doctor coming into the theatre, it is the very Doctor that is looking after Richard, but before I can ask him a single word, everything goes dark…