As the red helicopter made its way over to our site, I felt the tears prickling hot against my skin. It was too late. The impact with the tree had smashed his skull hard and I could no longer feel a heartbeat.
“He’ll be fine,” some guy next to me said calmly, shielding his eyes against the sun and looking towards the helicopter.
I wanted to grab his head and shake some sense into it. He wouldn’t be fine! There was a gaping hole in the side of his head and as I leaned across his body, I couldn’t feel his breath. Why hadn’t he worn his helmet? Had it been I, who had carelessly said he would be fine without one just this one day? Or had he decided against it?
The hum of the helicopter grew louder and I watched it land further from us. I shook my head. It was too late.
FFfAW, Week of August 30, 2016
Photo prompt provided by Iain Kelly