A Traffic Accident

“Screech!” The ear-splitting sound of mutilated metal and shattering glass reverberated throughout the estate, causing anyone within a few miles of the road to turn instinctively towards the source of the din. I whipped around, startled.
Nothing could have prepared me for the scene that appeared before my eyes. Scrap metal carpeted the length of the road, dotted here and there with shards of glass. Right in the centre of all this mess was the remains of a lime- green car and a beige run-down lorry, both blighted by the crash. The Caucasian male, who was the lorry driver, was trapped in his vehicle; face partially obscured by an inflated airbag. He was not injured, and was already trying to come out of the lorry with the assistance of a few people. The lorry, being heavier, had got through the accident with barely a few dents and a couple of smashed headlights, but the car was not that lucky. Almost half of the car was destroyed, but miraculously, the driver was unscathed. A young woman in her forties was trying to come out of her car, albeit without success.
By this time, the lorry driver was out of the vehicle and on the curb, a dazed expression on his face. It was then that it struck me that I should have called an ambulance. I fished out my phone, clammy fingers rapidly pressing the four numbers that would bring help. It turned out to be unnecessary, however, as the moment I put the phone to my ears, the blaring note of a siren filled the air, and I put the phone down. An ambulance entered the scene, followed by a police car. The female driver was also out now, but there was a vast difference in behaviour.
She was screaming and abusing the Caucasian man, hysterically pointing an accusing finger at the driver as he silently protested. Finally, the policemen had had enough. They coaxed the woman until all she did was glare at the driver angrily. The man’s face was ashen. Realising that something was wrong, the paramedics took him in a stretcher to the ambulance. The lady was brought in for questioning.
Soon enough, the crowd dispersed and everyone went about their businesses, and I continued on towards my house. Disturbed by what I had seen, I reviewed the incident in my mind. This continued until I began to tire of seeing ruined metal and screaming women in my head. The next day, on my way home again, my stomach lurched as I saw a cobalt-blue sign on the footpath-‘Witnesses needed’- with a graphic image of two cars at the bottom, followed by a telephone number. Not wanting to get involved, I walked on, as if I had never noticed the sign at all.


THE END (466 words)

Zac wrote:“Screech!”screech shouldn't be in "'s The ear-splitting sound of mutilated metal and shattering glass reverberated throughout the estate, causing anyone within a few miles of the road to turn instinctively towards the source of the din. I whipped around, startled.
Nothing could have prepared me for the scene that appeared before my eyes. Scrap metal carpeted the length of the road, dotted here and there with shards of glass. Right in the center of all this mess was the remains of a lime- green car and a beige run-down lorry, both blighted by the crash. The Caucasian male, who was the lorry driver, was trapped in his vehicle; face partially obscured by an inflated airbag. He was not injured, and was already trying to come out of the lorry with the assistance of a few people. The lorry, being heavier, had got through the accident with barely a few dents and a couple of smashed headlights, but the car was not that lucky. Almost half of the car was destroyed, but miraculously, the driver was unscathed. A young woman in her forties was trying to come out of her car, albeit without success.
By this time, the lorry driver was out of the vehicle and on the curb, a dazed expression on his face. It was then that it struck me that I should have called an ambulance. I fished out my phone, clammy fingers rapidly pressing the four numbers that would bring help. It turned out to be unnecessary, however, as the moment I put the phone to my ears, the blaring note of a siren filled the air, and I put the phone down. An ambulance entered the scene, followed by a police car. The female driver was also out now, but there was a vast difference in behavior.
She was screaming and abusing the Caucasian man, hysterically pointing an accusing finger at the driver as he silently protested. Finally, the policemen had had enough. They coaxed the woman until all she did was glare at the driver angrily. The man’s face was ashen. Realizing that something was wrong, the paramedics took him in a stretcher to the ambulance. The lady was brought in for questioning.
Soon enough, the crowd dispersed and everyone went about their businesses, and I continued on towards my house. Disturbed by what I had seen, I reviewed the incident in my mind. This continued until I began to tire of seeing ruined metal and screaming women in my head. The next day, on my way home again, my stomach lurched as I saw a cobalt-blue sign on the footpath-‘Witnesses needed’- with a graphic image of two cars at the bottom, followed by a telephone number. Not wanting to get involved, I walked on, as if I had never noticed the sign at all.


THE END (466 words)

I only saw one mistake with this, it's in red at the top. This is REALLY well written!! It just needs WAY more emotion. You're way with words is AWESOME! What is this story supposed to be about? Just a car accident?

Alzora

Hi there!

“Screech!”

It's a sound, not dialogue. Take away the quotation marks and italicize it.

The ear-splitting sound of mutilated metal and shattering glass

Because, like "shattering", it's in the process of happening, change this to "mutilating."

Right in the centre of all this mess

"Mess" is so common, like you're talking about dirty dishes or spilled juice. Change this to something more unique, more dynamic, and it will become more realistic and descriptive.

The Caucasian male, who was the lorry driver, was trapped in his vehicle; face partially obscured by an inflated airbag. He was not injured, and was already trying to come out of the lorry with the assistance of a few people.

This is a lot of telling. Now, show us. What was his expression? What means were being taken to get him out? How were his savers acting? Adding more description language at parts like these will really up the quality of this.

She was screaming and abusing the Caucasian man, hysterically pointing an accusing finger at the driver as he silently protested.

Was this all? I think that you could really add to this part by show, not telling us stuff. What was she screaming? Exactly how hysterical was she? How did the driver act, other than silently protesting?

Disturbed by what I had seen, I reviewed the incident in my mind.

This is one of the only parts that actually tell us what you were feeling. Thoughts must have been running through your mind; it would be fairly simple to elaborate.

Not wanting to get involved, I walked on, as if I had never noticed the sign at all.

This was probably one of the more gut wrenching parts, and for such a subject, that's not saying much. We finally get a feel for the MC - how they react to this - and it makes us a little uneasy, but we don't really know how you feel throughout the rest of this. We want to know, and it will vastly improve this piece if we do.

Another thing I noticed is that for most of this piece, you tell us what happens, but you don't show us. Yes, you have some really nice descriptions, but for such a graphic subject you could further on those, also adding how you feel about what you see.

Still, this is a nice piece, even though short. As it is, it's fairly good. But, like with all writing, it could get better.

loveness, ultraviolet <3

Hey there! Welcome to YWS!

I really liked this, especially the description of the car wreck on the road. Still, I think there are ways you could improve it. You've posted this in non-fiction, so I'm assuming this is something that you actually saw happen? I think this could be a lot more interesting if you included more of how you felt when the crash was happening, and afterwards. I remember I saw a car crash once and it wasn't nearly as bad as this one; all that happened was that someone's car got badly dented, but it still shook me up quite a bit. This is far more dramatic, but in contrast the narration is very dry and detached, almost like a report. It would be much more engaging and the reader would feel more involved if you described more emotion, and the effect seeing the crash had on you/the narrator. That way, this enigmatic ending you having about the narrator ignoring the sign might have more of an impact. Not that this isn't well written because it definitely is, but at the moment the main character is very set apart from the action of the story and I'm not sure that it works as a style of narration.

PM me if you have any questions about this or anything else, and hope to see you around!

I'll have to agree with the first review, needs more emotion, but other than that great flow to the story. Is it a relation to society? How people seemingly become mute when asked to be a "witness". I'm interested in knowing how this came about and why you choose to write about it. Great job though.