The sun beat down on Croc city, the air hot and humid, yet it buzzed with life, people walking to and from somewhere.
Lillian sauntered gingerly down the stairs of the CD store unto the street, her eccentric green and yellow hair a contrast to the sharp suits and pony tails meandering the tarred roads.
She bobbed her head occasionally to the music blasting from her headphones, earning funny looks from passers-by but she did not seem at all bothered.
Getting to a T junction, she paused to get a good look at the road before taking the leap to the other side. Just a few cars from both sides. As she waited patiently for the pedestrian sign to turn green, a black Mercedes parked by the corner caught her attention. It was decorated with pink ribbons and has a sign that read 'Bride'. She gave a low hum and turned towards the road.
She chanced a glance at a woman and a toddler across, the boy seemed to be testing his legs, shrieking in that usual toddler style. The woman was on a bench, her head buried in a book but she lifted it at the call of her...son?
Lillian smiled thoughtfully but her smile was immediately ripped off her face when she saw the approaching truck and the fast pacing toddler.
No!
Without thinking she dashed across the street, just in time to push the oblivious baby and...
Lillian felt the blood rushing in her ears, her whole body paralyzed with shock. The baby cried loudly in the background of her dazed mind, the mother hysterical as she held onto him.
People had gathered around, some with their cell phones out, others making calls. Lillian let two men help her to her feet, the ringing in her ears still poignant and loud drowning the other noise.
She heaved, her chest in knots as she chanced a look at the truck. It swerved just in time. Just in time to knock into the traffic pole. She could see trails of blood and the cloudy smoke. Her veins chilled to the bone!
In the distance, she heard the unmistakable wail of an ambulance. A woman had walked up to her and assisted her to seat on the bench. The woman was saying something, but Lillian heard nothing. She just saw her lips move.
Her vision blurred, her heart pounding, the adrenaline rush making the hairs on her stand on end. The paramedics were quick, two making their way over from the scene.
A young blonde and an African-American man with a buzz cut.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
Lillian's eyes focused on the young woman with much effort, her body shaking.
"Do you feel any pain?" The young blonde asked again
Lillian shook her head, she felt she was slowly coming to.
"It's going to be fine. You're okay." She said rubbing her arms tenderly.
Lillian looked across the street, her mind a warp of emotions.
"Is...?" She choked out
"Unconscious. He is still breathing. Now, I want you to breathe for me, love."
Lillian nodded headily, taking in shaky breaths.
"Would you like to go to the hospital? Make sure you're okay?"
"No," Lillian held a hand up, "I'm fine. He didn't hit me, but the boy...I..." Lillian turned to look and the African-American was attending to a hysterical toddler. The mother was no better, sobbing loudly with him in her arms.
"He is okay. You were very brave sweetheart! You did well."
"Yes," a woman said from behind Lillian. The same who'd guided her to the bench. Only then did Lillian notice that the woman must have been with her all this time.
"I watched it all happen," the woman continued. She looked mid-thirties dressed in a pencil skirt and a dress shirt, "and I know this must be a very...difficult experience."
The woman paused and searched her bag, taking out a card and placing it in Lillian's shaky hands.
"This is the card of my friend. She is a great therapist and just in case you need someone to talk to. She will help you."
Lillian nodded slowly, muttering her thanks. The blonde paramedic soon left her to attend to other matters and so did the woman who gave her the card.
Lillian sat on the bench, staring down at the expensively designed card while the whole experience replayed in her head like a conjured illusion. The adrenaline had wore off and she was left with fear. But most of all, she was alive.
She lived!
© Deraaa, 17th February, 2023.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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