Last night there was a hit and run on Memorial Drive. Some anonymous pig drove up onto the sidewalk and hit a man walking alone at about 2AM. He landed in the middle of the street, breaking god only knows what and losing consciousness. The driver sped off, and Steve and I were the first people to find him.
We were driving through the rain, talking about our night, and everything seemed fine. Then I saw a large lump in the street, and asked Steve "what is that?" He had noticed it too, and he said "it's a person."
Steve stopped the car, and his tail lights illuminated the man's body so people would be able to see him. I called 911 and Steve rushed to see if he was conscious. Two other people who had been driving behing us stopped too, and waited with us until the cops came about a minute later. They shut down Mem drive, and we waited while the ambulance lifted him into a gurney. The side of him that had been on the ground isn't something I'd like to describe or ever see again.
The cop took our statements, and he told us that the man died when they lifted him into the ambulance. Steve and I spent the ride home believing that we had just watched a man die. We went to bed, and I think I fell asleep some time after 4AM.
I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. My father had heard about the accident on the news, and he wanted us to know that they had resuscitated the man in the ambulance, and that he was in critical condition. I was so relieved that I decided to give practice a shot after all. After calling around, I got a ride from Pussy, and was set to hopefully pass my last assessments and have a pretty great day.
However, when recounting the details of last night to Trixie, I remembered something I had forgotten from the beginning of the whole mess: I noticed the guy in the street because I saw at least three cars drive around him and leave him there. I went from zero to crying with rage in about five minutes, and after talking to Dash and Xena, I ended up sobbing like a baby in the bathroom until Steve could come and pick me up.
I have no clue why it took me until just before warmups, but it was like I hadn't gotten a chance to really think about what happened until that exact moment. It was like I was only just seeing what happened right then. I feel like SUCH A DRAMA QUEEN even typing that, and I feel like the biggest drama queen in the world for going to practice and freaking out like that. A much smarter person would have had the sense to stay home. I really should have. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so embarassed that everyone saw me like that, but oh well. I spent most of practice sitting on the floor trying not to cry, and when I finally managed it I got up on the bleachers long enough to see the girls play blood and thunder. I was mortified, but glad I was going home.
Steve, Mike, and Terry came and got me, and I lost it all over again. I'm home now, and feeling better, but I'm very, very tired. I just don't understand how someone could drive up onto the sidewalk and hit someone and then just drive away. I suppose he or she was drunk, or not paying attention, or asleep, or driving too quickly. That person is beyond contempt, and that's not what has me so angry. I just keep losing it over the people who drove right past this totally helpless man lying in the middle of Memorial Drive. They had to go into the opposite lane to avoid him. They had to see that there was a PERSON lying on the ground and decide not to help. That is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen with my own eyes.
I don't know if we'll be able to find out if he survived it or not. I really want to. I just hope that the person who hit him is never ok. I hope the people who passed him do the right thing next time. I hope I never have to see anything like that again.
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