Sacred Hart Read Online Free
Author: A.M. Johnson
the man.
“I used to be a paramedic.” My eyes fell to the face of the man who was dying in the dirt.
“The person in the other car?” she asked.
“Head trauma.” The lights of the ambulance lit the pavement, and the sirens sent chills down my spine. My cue to leave. “You got this?” I stood ready to escape. The bile in my gut rising.
“You need to stay, tell them your assessment of the other car.” The irritation in her voice drew my eyes to hers one more time. They watched me with a quiet arrogance.
“Head injury, airbag burns. That’s my assessment. And this guy… he’s a goner.” My eyes scanned her face and she frowned.
The voices of the first responders filled the air. I needed to get the hell out of here. When I turned to leave, the nurse’s back driver side door was open, and the small girl I’d seen at the festival was staring at the man on the ground. I hadn’t noticed a child in the car when I popped the trunk. My heart beat wildly within its cage. She really did look just like Belle… my Birdie. The rain, the blue and red lights, it was like I was seeing a ghost again. My throat started to constrict and I had to close my eyes.
“Oh my gosh, Beth! Get back in the car, Honey Bee. Mom’s helping save lives.” The panic in her voice shook me from my breakdown.
I scrubbed my palm down my face and across the rough hair of my beard before I opened my eyes. The little girl was still standing there, and I could see she was definitely older than Belle. She looked about five or six, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Listen to your mom, you don’t need to see this.” The sound of my voice surprised me. I hadn’t even thought the words, yet I spoke them. The girl shook her head, the green scarf around her neck made her hair look like corn silk. “Go on, go wait in the car.” She finally listened and sat down inside the vehicle. I walked over and shut the door. She watched me with giant brown eyes. She grinned as I smiled at her, and my chest filled with a familiar heaviness.
“Thank you,” the nurse called out to me. I nodded at her and headed back up the drive to Red’s — to my cabin, to my safety. This whole accident, this little girl, the paramedics, two of which were now helping the “Good Samaritan”, drained me minute by minute.
I didn’t look back. I just kept one foot in front of the other long enough to make it back to my place. The door shut behind me, and I fell to my knees with the blood of the man still on my hands. The cold surface of the floor seeped through me as I yelled at the top of my lungs. My eyes were wide open, taking in each inch of the nothingness that I owned. My throat burned from the volume of it, and the hot tears stained my cheeks.
When would I stop seeing ghosts that weren’t there?
When would I stop missing every moment that never got to happen?
When would I forgive Sarah… or better yet… myself?
Chapter Three
Rust-tinted water swirled down the drain as I washed away the blood from my shaking fingers. The responsibility of his death still lingered. Had I caused him more pain by trying to save him? Should I have left him to die in the car? Tears fell down my cheeks as the hot water started to finally lose its warmth. Gosh, how long had I been in here? I turned the shower off, pulled the comic book themed plastic shower curtain to the side, and stepped out of the tub. I grabbed my towel and roughly dried my hair, then my body, trying to remove every last bit of guilt that I could. The terry cloth was too soft; I wanted to feel the burn of the fabric against my skin. I hadn’t saved him. He wouldn’t be home tonight with his wife. Mr. Bartley wouldn’t get to see his daughter graduate from Oakville School. My head fell forward as the tears came in a rush.
I let the pain in this time. I deserved it. That paramedic was right; I shouldn’t have moved him. My personal relationship with the patient, one of my neighbors, clouded my
“I used to be a paramedic.” My eyes fell to the face of the man who was dying in the dirt.
“The person in the other car?” she asked.
“Head trauma.” The lights of the ambulance lit the pavement, and the sirens sent chills down my spine. My cue to leave. “You got this?” I stood ready to escape. The bile in my gut rising.
“You need to stay, tell them your assessment of the other car.” The irritation in her voice drew my eyes to hers one more time. They watched me with a quiet arrogance.
“Head injury, airbag burns. That’s my assessment. And this guy… he’s a goner.” My eyes scanned her face and she frowned.
The voices of the first responders filled the air. I needed to get the hell out of here. When I turned to leave, the nurse’s back driver side door was open, and the small girl I’d seen at the festival was staring at the man on the ground. I hadn’t noticed a child in the car when I popped the trunk. My heart beat wildly within its cage. She really did look just like Belle… my Birdie. The rain, the blue and red lights, it was like I was seeing a ghost again. My throat started to constrict and I had to close my eyes.
“Oh my gosh, Beth! Get back in the car, Honey Bee. Mom’s helping save lives.” The panic in her voice shook me from my breakdown.
I scrubbed my palm down my face and across the rough hair of my beard before I opened my eyes. The little girl was still standing there, and I could see she was definitely older than Belle. She looked about five or six, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Listen to your mom, you don’t need to see this.” The sound of my voice surprised me. I hadn’t even thought the words, yet I spoke them. The girl shook her head, the green scarf around her neck made her hair look like corn silk. “Go on, go wait in the car.” She finally listened and sat down inside the vehicle. I walked over and shut the door. She watched me with giant brown eyes. She grinned as I smiled at her, and my chest filled with a familiar heaviness.
“Thank you,” the nurse called out to me. I nodded at her and headed back up the drive to Red’s — to my cabin, to my safety. This whole accident, this little girl, the paramedics, two of which were now helping the “Good Samaritan”, drained me minute by minute.
I didn’t look back. I just kept one foot in front of the other long enough to make it back to my place. The door shut behind me, and I fell to my knees with the blood of the man still on my hands. The cold surface of the floor seeped through me as I yelled at the top of my lungs. My eyes were wide open, taking in each inch of the nothingness that I owned. My throat burned from the volume of it, and the hot tears stained my cheeks.
When would I stop seeing ghosts that weren’t there?
When would I stop missing every moment that never got to happen?
When would I forgive Sarah… or better yet… myself?
Chapter Three
Rust-tinted water swirled down the drain as I washed away the blood from my shaking fingers. The responsibility of his death still lingered. Had I caused him more pain by trying to save him? Should I have left him to die in the car? Tears fell down my cheeks as the hot water started to finally lose its warmth. Gosh, how long had I been in here? I turned the shower off, pulled the comic book themed plastic shower curtain to the side, and stepped out of the tub. I grabbed my towel and roughly dried my hair, then my body, trying to remove every last bit of guilt that I could. The terry cloth was too soft; I wanted to feel the burn of the fabric against my skin. I hadn’t saved him. He wouldn’t be home tonight with his wife. Mr. Bartley wouldn’t get to see his daughter graduate from Oakville School. My head fell forward as the tears came in a rush.
I let the pain in this time. I deserved it. That paramedic was right; I shouldn’t have moved him. My personal relationship with the patient, one of my neighbors, clouded my
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