A minivan plowed into the lorry.

A vintage brown Chevrolet pickup truck swerved to miss the cars but clipped it, spun out, hit the guardrail, and then rebounded into the three cars, blocking the street.

A four-door with a wavy decal on the side T-boned the lorry.

Two sports cars, following each other way too closely, came down the hill. The first tried to stop but got rear-ended by the second and was pushed into the mess.

A little old lady in a rustbucket of a station wagon presently came by and was able to stop short, as did a few other cars.

And then the drunk driver in an SUV came barreling down the road.

I could do nothing, such was the pain and the shock of it all. I was lying in a mixture of blood and fuel. I saw the man with the glass in his face, the woman and the baby motionless on the ceiling of the overturned minivan, the deer prancing.

The flames, coming to engulf me. I welcomed them, watching as the burning fingers raced to claim me.

And then, to my surprise, the Girl pulled me out.