Our Daughter is Waiting at Home

I had never loved him more than I did at this moment.
He was telling me everything would be ok. But I knew different. I could smell the gasoline and the car was still running.
The other car had swerved into our lane suddenly and in order to preserve our lives, he swerved to avoid it. It didn’t work out so great and here I laid, legs pinned under the dash, hanging upside down.
Unhurt, he had crawled from the car, calling for help, yet constantly reassuring me that everything would be ok.
The minutes ticked by with no rescue effort coming to aid us and the gas continued to pool around me. Growing frantic, he crawled in to beat on the dash, hoping to break it loose and free me. I stopped him, knowing his energy could be used better. I asked for a kiss; he complied.
Then I said my last words,“We have a beautiful baby girl waiting for us to come home. Go get help. I’ll be fine.” He kissed me again, then walked off into the night.
Five minutes later, the car was engulfed in flames.

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