I will never forget today for as long as I live

This post is unlike any of the others before. It is not about my mom, or about dealing with her death. I will say that will be gruesome and at times, down-right disturbing, but it is an account of what happened to me this morning that I will never forget for the rest of my life. If you are easily upset, do not read this.

Yesterday was the year anniversary of my mom's bone marrow transplant, and although I felt a strain all day, this morning I felt great. Back to normal. I got up early for work and left out for my commute at seven. I was stuck behind a school bus who had stopped at railroad tracks, and as it stopped, I and everyone else in my lane and the left lane next to me had to stop as well. I heard a loud motor coming from behind me and saw a motorcycle speeding ahead the traffic, left of the double yellow line in the oncoming lane. Just as my brain was able to register what was happening, I saw him approach the intersection with the railroad tracks and collide with a van who was turning left out of the left-hand lane, the same lane he was riding illegally left of. This was always one of my worst fears, to witness a motorcycle accident. It was horrific.

I could hear the collision and no longer saw the bike or it's riders (a guy and girl). I was able to make my way over them, and I was the first to arrive on the scene. I was calling 911 as I parked my car on the curb and ran to them. The bike was shattered and in several pieces along the road. The boy was on the side of the street, jutted up against the curb and partially lying in a rain gutter. He was moaning, and I saw him and immediately started to panic. I kept telling him it was ok, but I kept saying "Oh my God." I've never seen anything like it. His legs were backwards. He, believe it or not, was telling me to calm down. I grabbed his hand, and he did not squeeze my hand back. He kept moaning a girl's name. I finally saw her out of the corner of my eye. My God. Horrific. She was curled up next to the telephone pole, and it was extremely evident she had hit it head first. Her body lay mangled on the ground, nearly wrapped around the pole. Blood was everywhere.

Neither of them were wearing helmets. The 911 dispatcher told me ambulances were on their way and I immediately hung up. The girl was breathing very shallow and gurgling blood. Blood was coming out of everything. Another woman came up behind me, and she was yelling "We have to do CPR!" By this time, many people had stopped, but for what only seemed for them to watch, not to help. I think people were in shock and probably didn't know what to do. I cannot ever possibly tell you how surreal and horrific it was. The woman knelt down by the girl's head, I at her chest. The girl wasn't breathing. The woman breathed two breaths into her mouth, and I began compressions. I counted out loud, nearly screaming from panic. The boy could hear us talking about her not breathing and he began to panic for his girlfriend. He screamed her name over and over. He never complained of pain, not once.

On my 30th compression, the woman would give two breaths. It was amazing, looking back now, at what a well-oiled machine we were. I could feel the girl's heart beat again under my hands, it was so fast I thought it might explode. Her breathing was shallow, but finally returned. She coughed and sputtered blood, and we turned her over onto her side to help it out. We continued CPR for what felt like an hour but in reality was probably only 7 minutes or so. The girl continued to start and stop breathing, but she never gained consciousness or made noise. The paramedics arrived and got in place to take over our job. They quickly got her onto a stretcher and left the scene, sirens and lights screaming.

I looked up at this woman who's job it was to breath air into the girl's lungs, and her face was covered in blood. "You're an angel," I told her. How many people would put their face to another person's face, into their blood? The woman said it was in her nose and in her mouth. What a selfless person she was. She was amazing. As both of us wiped blood from our bodies, I asked her name. Melinda.

"Well, Melinda. You are an absolute angel. You are amazing. You are absolutely amazing," I told her. She hugged me. Both of us were shaking. And crying.

As I wrote down my statement, another office pulled onto the scene, and said very quietly to the officer who was helping me, "Most likely fatal." My heart sank. I looked at him in fear. "She's dead?" I asked quietly, but with panic. He nodded and his face looked strained. "She was in bad shape from the get-go."

In a way, I wasn't surprised, but in another way, my heart wanted to believe she lived. Did he really know for sure?

Many people gave statements. The woman driving the van that hit the motorcycle was on her way to take her son to day-care. They took her to the hospital in one of the ambulances. I've never seen someone so white and in shock in my life.

Melinda had to go to the hospital to get tested, since she was in contact with so much blood in her mouth and nose. I'm glad they took her. She looked just as much in shock as the driver of the van.

I was asked to go to the hospital as well. I declined. I had blood on my hands and feet and pants, but I didn't see any real danger for myself besides being shaken up. Since it was nearly just two minutes down from my house, I was able to drive home.

I sat in my car, in front of my apartment, for nearly 20 minutes without a thought in my head, just staring. I looked down at my hands and realized I still had the girl's blood on my right wrist and hand.

I sobbed. For her and for her boyfriend. For their families. For the innocent woman driving the van. For Melinda. There will be many people tonight who will not be able to get that image out of their minds, whether that be the actual accident they witness or unfortunately, what Melinda and I witnessed.

I know I will never forget that. I did not go to work today. I cried most of the day, sat in shock during the parts I didn't cry. I immediately took off my blood-stained clothes and put them into a plastic bag to be washed. My shower felt like it took an hour. I washed everything twice and shampooed my hair three times.

I still did not feel clean. Even now, hours later, I do not feel clean. I feel uneasy, and I feel sad and worried for that boy, having to find out that his irresponsible actions have killed his girlfriend.

Looking back on this event, it feels as though it did not happen. It is almost too hard to believe, and my brain can't possibly process all of it. I am not the only one who will feel this way tonight, and I hope and pray that everyone involved is able to find some peace tonight, and if not tonight, soon.

To Melinda, wherever you are: The world would be a much better place if more people were as amazing and selfless as you. God bless you.