I remember the blood dripping down my chin in a thick stream, the metallic flavor filling my mouth until that was all I could taste. My whole body hurt like I had beed twisted around and then shoved into a tiny metal box with spikes laced inside of it. Breathing was difficult and with every single movement of my chest, pain blossomed from the center. 

My left arm hung away from my body at an awkward angle, my forearm mangled as the result of trying to stop my forward motion. But I couldn't feel it. Instead, it felt like my arm had been ripped off at the shoulder. 

My vision zoomed in and out and I was unable to focus on any single aspect of the crash. First it was blurry then clear and then blurry once again until I felt nauseous. It didn't help much that the whole world around me seemed to spin like a never-ending ride on "The Scrambler" that was always at fairs.

I suddenly became aware of the distant screaming of my name. The voice was male and he sounded frantic and terrified. 

My head lolled to the side in the direction of the driver. He was the one screaming my name. Jackson? He was screaming and trying to reach for me but he was pinned by his seat belt. Blood oozed from scratches all over his body and several marred his face. 

I could feel myself slipping because the whole situation was beginning not to register in my brain anymore. Then suddenly we were just a boy and a girl who had been in a car accident. Nothing more, nothing less. The boy tried his best but he could not reach the girl as she began to grow more and more distant with every passing second. Her eyes grew dimmer until she felt like she was staring at nothing in particular and the ebbing pain no longer demanded her attention. 

Then there was just blackness. 

Something warm was pressed into my hand, laying almost flat against my palm and nestled between my fingers. The warmth rubbed up and down my index finger. I could now conclude that this was another hand but I could not distinguish whose it belonged to. Not only that, but the hand seemed to be the only sensation that I could distinguish. 

I didn't want to open my eyes just yet so I mustered up the strength to give the other person's hand a small squeeze. The movement stopped immediately and I heard my name being whispered softly. Jackson. Then the w