Adrenaline

Adrenaline

You know when you know what you’re doing is really stupid, but you do it anyway? Well I was having one of those moments.

Blood pounded in my ears and I could feel the adrenaline race through my veins as I ran as quick as lightning towards the car crash. I ran as quick as lightning towards the wreckage while my heart thumped out the warnings ‘Don’t do it’, glug, ‘Don’t do it’. I knew I had too, though, because my heart also knew my rescue depended on it. If Danny were ever killed my heart would shatter into a tiny million pieces before simply giving up altogether. My very being depended on me and this rescue.

I knew it was him the second I saw the tiny blue car and the scratch on the side I had once made. Now it seemed quite miniscule compared to the rest of the wreck. Metal was crushed and looked like a messed up bar of butter. It also looked like the hot metal that was the car cut and melted like butter. What once was the car was warped and twisted, so far from what it used to be. It seemed like something from a fairy tale that really wasn’t there if you kept blinking away.

Once upon a time a time the world ended. It stood in its exact position, afraid to move in fear I would explode with the grief and sorrow bottled up inside of me. My heart fell from my chest and leaped on its suicidal mission to the ground. It shattered as it met its fate into millions of tiny fragments and littered the ground, bleeding out. I glance at the crimson now and wonder why it couldn't be like that. It would be so less painful.

As I ran to the car wreck, dashing into my own little suicide mission, there was only one thing on my mind and that was to save Peter. He was within the wreck somewhere, but I was fearful how bad it really was when I got up to it. Though I was a trained paramedic, nothing could prepare me for what I would face that Sunday morning when Peter had been on the phone with me moments before the crash. He had texted only one sentence 'I love you.' before I received the call to race to the scene. And nothing and no one could console me after I had seen the warped and twisted metal that was Peter's small blue Jeep. It was a scene like no other I had ever encountered.

I raced over to the car where there was burning oil everywhere and the car looked close to exploding. You know when your doing something really stupid, and in the back of you mind you know it is, but you still do it anyway? Well I was having one of those moments.

"Peter!" I screamed over the yells coming from the firemen and the crackling flames. Firemen and police were trying to get me away from the wreck, but they couldn't come after me. I knew the car was ready to blow. God, I thought, please give me a few more minutes to save him. That's all I wanted in the world at that moment, because nothing else mattered.

Deafening roars of hoses blasting off drowned out most of the sizzling and crackling coming from around me. I could feel sweat pouring off of me in rivulets, but I didn't want to wipe it off. It was cooling compared to the fire starting to gather momentum.

I finally made it through the rubble and over to the car. I tried ripping the metal away, only to have my hands come away soaked with blood and torn from the warped metal, but also burned badly. I didn't really feel it, but instead kicked at the car instead shouting Peter's name as loud as I could.

"Peter!" I screamed and screeched but to no avail. Losing him I knew was not an option I had in mind, because nothing on Earth mattered more than this one mission. His life was more dear than the highest nobleman or the poorest widow, because he was my one and only. Peter was beyond my soul-mate but a part of my soul. We were one person, two people divinely made with the other in mind. To lose him to something as earthly as a car crash, ones that I took care of every day, wasn't a possibility.

The fire now reared its ugly head and started to lick at my ankles. There were tears in my eyes from the smoke stinging my eyes and from the hopeless situation I was placed in. Neither of us had a chance of escaping, but that gave me a bit more of a reason and made me move forward, covering my eyes with my arm. I brought forth a mental picture of Peter, brown shaggy hair with those gorgeous eyes I fell in love with, and I knew I could move forward.

“Peter!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I knew very well that I was beginning to be suffocated as the walls of the fire closed in around me. The jeep was surprisingly not aflame, but the oil that was spilled around it was.

At first when I heard the rustling in the metal pile I thought I was simply dreaming, but as it grew louder I desperately rushed toward the sound. It was coming from the car, I knew it. After screaming once more there was a hand sticking up from the pile of debris. I jumped up into the pile and yanked at the hand I saw.

There was a groan, but the person helped me lift himself up. I flung myself into his arms, even though he may have needed the comfort himself. I hid my face into his shirt and cried my eyes out.

“Melanie?” I heard him ask. I nodded into his chest as I sobbed. We were finally within each others arms and that was all I could have asked for.

Then the most deafening roar I ever heard was vibrating the earth all around me as the explosion took hold of us.

Hi there Selene,

What... Oh, yes... I'm here to do a review. So, let's get started then.

You know when you know what you’re doing is really stupid, but you do it anyway? Well I was having one of those moments.

Ah, you're starting off your story with apostrophe. It's not done to often, yet pretty recently I did it with a story of my own. I'm not going to criticize the idea of doing this, but I would suggest that when you talk to the audience you do it in the most refined and respectful way you possibly can. Perhaps, "Have you ever experienced one of those moments when you knew you were doing something stupid, but didn't really care. I had one of those moments." Also, it was kind of irritating to read the same sentence later in the piece. I would get rid of that.

Now, you can go on and set a scene for us. Tell us why this moment was one of those moments. You launch us viciously into the story without setting a nice scene. While I understand that you were trying to attain the effect of chaos, I would suggest setting the scene as a chaotic one, and trying to achieve an amplification of this effect. Try short sentences. Build up the pace. Set up a rhythmic pattern for your increased heartbeat. Avoid the use of cliches under most circumstances. When you do use cliches such as: "quick as lightning", don't repeat them. also, it's as quickly as lightning. When writing an action scene, you want to be brief and concise. It's almost similar to writing humor. Under most circumstances, description only detracts from your suspense. Yes, this is one of the times that I would tell you to tell and not to show.

Also, show us your thoughts, and let them scream out to us. Your emotions are what you want us the readers to care about. You must win our sympathy before you can do this. What makes your boyfriend worth saving? Give us these details, and nothing more. We want to know more about your characters. Make us feel there pain.

Don't get me wrong, I really did like this piece. In fact I think it has so much potential, but you need to exploit that fact more. Clumsy sentence structures litter your piece. Like a good municipal worker do away with those unwanted structures.

The end of your story: You die. Okay, well I can live with an anticlimax. I wouldn't suggest doing it too often though. What I can't live with is knowing that you're writing this story from your grave. That I'll have to say is a little off-putting. And if you survived, then your anticlimax is not achieving the effect it was meant to carry. Maybe finish it off from the hospital bed with the knowledge that you're not going to come through this. With the knowledge that he's dead. Wrench our hearts open. I believe you can do it.

Have a good one!