wet blanket
2015-07-20 15:22:12 (UTC)

Traumatic Memories

I was sitting waiting to start work. As usual. All of a sudden Vicki is yelling help down in booth. I run down there as fast as I can thinking we're being robbed or something ridiculous.

What I see next is terrifying. There's an old man pressed against the wall of the drive through. His neck is at an odd angle. I gasp and grab Vicki. We run to the front of the store and one by one the managers run down.

They open the door of the drive through and need everyone's help to move the car off this man. He was 75. His grandchildren were in the car. Along with his wife. My manager runs inside with his hands covered in blood " This man is going to die" he gasps. I can't stop shaking. I peer around the corner after they've released him from the his car. The paramedics are working on him and I see his face. It's bruised and distorted and bloody. I knew he was gone as soon as I saw him pressed against the wall.

He had been reaching for a $10 note he dropped on the ground and accidentally stepped on the accelerator. I watched his wife embrace the family. Imagine watching your grandfather die right in front of you.
I watched a man die that day.

And then people had the nerve to come through later that night asking if a man had died there that day. And drive off laughing.
Laughing about a lost life. Fucking heartless. I'm sure they wouldn't have laughed if they witnessed the grandchildren's horrified faces.

I feel like I'm relapsing so quickly and deeply into depression again.

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