My world was vertical, the orange sherbet horizon cutting through my vision like a hazy thunderbolt. I was on my side, and that's all I could really discern. My thoughts swam drunkenly between hazy reality and vivid daydream meanderings. Hallucinations really. I imagined in some remote part of my brain that they were brought on by blood loss. I could feel the warm tide creeping up my ribs. An image of frost clotting my blood swam lazily through my mind. Maybe I would make it. Maybe the frost and snow would save me. Pfeh. Whatever to keep me calm.
I had no idea how long I'd been lying there before somebody called for help. An hour? Two hours? Ten hours? It didn't matter. My hands had long since lost all feeling. Attempting to wiggle my pinkies, I found that they still moved - stiffly - though I couldn't be sure they were actually moving at all. When the paramedics did arrive, they turned me on my back. The sky was bright orange from the city lights reflecting off fluffy clouds, and snowflakes fluttered down lazily on whispers of a breeze. Some caught in my eyelashes, and I was amused at their attempts to escape before their inevitable demise. A few more moments of life. A few more moments. Some escaped. Some didn't.
The paramedics were asking questions. I couldn't hear anything they were saying. It was all gibberish. I could feel my brows furrowing in frustration. As if to say, I'm dying here. Could you at least keep it down while I'm slipping away?
Of course, paramedics are never the best at reading body language. They hoisted me onto a stretcher and hauled me into the ambulance. It was warm. Presently. It was actually burning.
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She was the third in a week. A black body bag was no place for her.
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