Its Very Dark. So Dark It Almost Hurts My Eyes Just Straining To See I

It's very dark. So dark it almost hurts my eyes just straining to see into it. While I'm trying to peer into the darkness my eyes feel like they are glaring and squinting so hard they're just slits that I could hardly see out of anyway. They are actually willing themselves to see something-anything. They seem to scream out to my brain to conjure up an image just so they could prove they still work. I suddenly become aware that the blackness that surrounds me is deadly quiet, too. Shouldn't I be hearing something; why can't I see? Where in the heck am I? And what is happening around me? Am I dead? What was I doing just a few minutes ago? I can't remember a thing. Now this is beginning to scare me. How do I get out of here? Nothing moves around me. Everything is void and then I begin to drift slowly up and then away and now...I am....no longer...afraid. "Oh my God!" he says, "there's a woman in here--it looks like she's dead or close to it. Call 911, this just happened! Get the ambulance here fast. At least I think we need an ambulance." As Kate dials the cell phone in the car her hand shakes. She's never seen an accident before and just the aftermath is overwhelming. She's had more than one dream where she can't get the 911 number dialed into the phone. It seems so easy in the dream until it is time to actually do it. Then the phone is busy or she mis-dials or she just can't make her fingers go. Right now her hands are shaking and she's trying to remember exactly where they were when they came upon the accident scene. The operator will want to know that. Come on, answer, answer, answer! "Hello, yes, we've come across an accident on West Ferry Road about two miles out of town, north, no south of town, I think. There is one person in the car but she doesn't look too good. Please send an ambulance-quick! What? No, I'm not sure if she's breathing. Just a minute-let me check." "Jack, is she breathing? Can you get to her? The operator will help, if she can." "I can't hardly reach her everything is so twisted up and around her." As he tries to reach in to put a finger under her nose or detect any movement of her chest he feels a thick, sticky wetness that makes him stop for a second. What the hell? As he jerks his hand out he instantly knows what it is-blood and plenty of it. Oh, God, now what have I gotten myself into? You can't even help out at an accident scene these days without being afraid of hepitatis or AIDS. Just then he feels a slight movement and can see her head barely moving. She must be alive or maybe it's just involunatary jerking that follows death. "Kate, tell her I can't tell. There's an awful lot of blood, but I think there's a chance she's still alive. Hurry! Tell them to hurry! I'll stay here until they come. You just stay there on the line, if you have to." "Operator? We don't know, we can't tell. There's lots of blood, but we can't be sure. It looks very bad. Please hurry. We'll stay here until help arrives. Do I need to stay on the line? Okay, but tell them to get here quick. She really needs some help." As Kate stays on the line with the operator Jack begins to talk to this woman who probably just minutes ago was traveling down the road with not a hint of what was to happen, whatever it was. Did she dodge a deer, fall asleep, change a tape, or what?. She really wrapped it around this power pole and now seemed to be in a fight for her life. Was she aware of what had happened or what was happening now? Probably not--that gash on her forehead lookes pretty horrible and deep. Maybe she's brain dead. Wonder if she had a donor card? Do the paramedics check for that before they leave the scene? As these thoughts raced through