I’m pacing anxiously across my room. My burning eyes are dried from all the tears. Each tick of the second hand feels like an eternity. What if she is dead? What if she paralyzed? What if I never see her again? My hot clammy hand grips the phone as I run my fingers over the buttons. One tick- I slammed the car door unsuspecting of the deadly event that lied in the near future. Two ticks- the shrill of the sirens pierced the cold think air. Three ticks- her lifeless body. Her pale face. Her cold hands. Four ticks- hot burning tears streamed down my face as the ambulance speed away. Five ticks- my phone’s ring tone breaks the silence and the hospitals number appears on the screen.