Drunk
by Heel
Copyright© 2025 by Heel
Through the web of cracks on the windshield, it could be seen that a man was lying on the asphalt. He was frozen in an unnatural position. His motorcycle was twisted beyond recognition by the monstrous force of the impact.
The man behind the wheel pushed aside the airbag and cursed loudly. He sat up to assess the damage. The front of the car was badly damaged, especially on the right side.
“Where the hell did that idiot come from!” he muttered, rubbing his bruised ribs. “Damn it, why did this have to happen to me! What if he’s dead! That’s all I needed! Reni, are you okay?”
His wife groaned. Her face was deathly pale, and her eyes had a feverish look.
“I’ll go check if he’s alive. I’m screwed if ... Reni, did you hear me?”
“My leg hurts,” she whimpered and ran a trembling hand over her forehead. He looked at her in alarm and said,
“Stay here, don’t move. I’ll go see what’s going on.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but seeing how agitated he was, decided to stay silent.
A few minutes later, the man returned to the car and began forcing open the right door. It took him a while to manage it, since the frame was warped. Breathing heavily, he bent toward his wife and said,
“Reni, the guy’s alive, but unconscious. I’ll call 112 in a minute, but first, we need to take care of something. You’re okay, right?”
“No, I’m not okay. My leg hurts, I told you,” she hissed through her teeth as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Calm down, sweetheart, calm down, everything’s going to be fine. Don’t worry. Listen to me — I’ve been drinking. If they catch me driving drunk again, I’ll go straight to jail, so...”
“I know damn well you’ve been drinking! I offered to drive!”
“Honey, I can hold my liquor. Three whiskies are nothing to me, you know that. The problem is, that idiot crashed into us.”
“Oh, right, he crashed into us! You crossed into the opposite lane!”
“Don’t make me even more nervous, please. Listen — you’re going to move to the driver’s seat, pretend you were driving, okay?”
Reni stared at him in disbelief, then furrowed her brow thoughtfully.
“Come on, quickly, give me your hand,” he continued. “Someone could show up any minute. It’s fine, don’t worry.”
He grabbed her under the arms and dragged her out without much concern for her pain. Reni moaned the whole time but didn’t dare protest. Outside the car, she tried to put weight on her left leg, but it gave way — it couldn’t hold her. A swelling had already formed below the knee.
Seeing she couldn’t move on her own, he carried her around to the other side and settled her behind the wheel. After buckling her seatbelt so there’d be no doubt who had been driving, he pulled out his phone and dialed 112. He gave his version of events, then sighed in relief. Something made him glance at the passenger side.
“Oh, good thing I saw that. Reni, one of your shoes is still here. That would’ve been a big mistake. Here,” he said, tossing the black clog at her feet.
The motorcyclist was still lying motionless on the road.
Half an hour later, sirens wailed in the distance. Worn out from pain and tension, Reni began praying silently that everything would go as planned. This was not the kind of moment that allowed mistakes.
The next few days passed for Reni in a fog steeped in pain. Moments of brutal suffering alternated with blissful relief brought by strong medication. Sometimes she saw the blurred faces of doctors and nurses above her. Her husband brought her flowers and chocolates. He had even arranged for a private room.
When a policeman came to question her, she said she had swerved suddenly because an animal — a dog, she thought — had darted into the road. The officer was understanding and didn’t press her with questions.
One Saturday afternoon, near the end of visiting hours, a young man with his head bandaged appeared at her bedside. Something in his eyes unsettled her.
“May I talk to you?” he asked, sitting on a stool.
“Do we know each other?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Then what—”
“You hit me with your car.”
“Oh!”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“I’m very sorry. I had to swerve because an animal ran out into the road — a dog, I think. It all happened in seconds. I hope you weren’t seriously hurt.”
The man snorted.
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