Bear with me on this post; positioning is important to this story.

As I was driving down St. Clair on my way to the subway station, I was stopped in the right lane by traffic right before my turn–very close to my parking lot. It didn’t matter though, because I was absorbed in the music that was playing at the time. A big school bus was in the middle lane, also stopped, just slightly ahead of me. I saw the driver of the bus get out, and seemingly yell something to the driver of the car in front of me. I don’t know. I thought that they’d gotten into some sort of altercation over some small annoyance. I was hoping they’d just stop and get on with their commute because they were blocking two lanes of traffic.

Moments later, I spot this teenage girl who seemed to be 17 yrs old sitting at the side of the road. She was sitting cross legged, seemingly in pain. My mind was playing through various scenarios here. I thought that maybe the girl was from the car in front of me, and that the driver maybe beat her or something. It was only when I looked at the girl directly when I noticed that she had a lot of dirt and blood on her face. There was a lot of running back and forth by the bus driver between the victim and the bus, as well as the driver
of the car in front and the victim. He was already calling for an ambulance on his cell. The school bus driver brought out this silvery wrap thing that had acting as a blanket. All this time, the victim was in shock.
There was a van directly behind the bus (and to the left of me). The driver got out and ran to the girl. The car behind me stopped, brought out rubber gloves, and started asking the basic first aid questions. All this time, I’m sitting in my car, thinking, “Man…I took first aid long ago, but I so wouldn’t know what to do right now.” It was like watching one of those reality television shows. I snapped out of day dreaming, and looked around my car. I realized that I was boxed in and had no way of continuing on my drive to work.

I sat in my car for a few minutes wondering, should I get out? To be honest, and this might make me seem like a prick but I didn’t want to get out. There were already four people tending to her, and I had no other skills that I could use to improve her situation. I didn’t have any blankets in the trunk. Two people were already on cell phones to get help. This is not like that Kitty Genovese case–there were lots of people there to help. However, with nowhere to go, I guess all I could do was get out.

I stepped out of my car, and stood there by the victim. I felt horrible. I couldn’t help but feel like I was just gawking at her. Well…I was, you know. I stuck around because I had no choice. I didn’t speak a word to anyone there–even though I kind of wanted to. What happened? How did she get into this state? Is anything broken? These are questions that remain unanswered in my mind.
Minutes later, sirens wailed off in the distance. A whole fleet of rescue services came in. The bus driver stopped what she was doing and realized “we should probably move our vehicles and unblock traffic, right?” I nodded in agreement, as if I was actually part of the decision. I was not. I quickly left and got back into my car, but it was only a minute or two later that the bus and the van decided to unblock the centre lane.

They stuck around to help, but as soon as I had the opening, I left. I continued on my way around the corner and into the parking lot. I mean, it was just there, you know? All this time, I felt horrible. I had all these excuses why I didn’t need to stick around. As much as they were valid, each one just made me feel like I was a heel.

I couldn’t stay because I’d be late for work–but what is that weighed against the safety of one person?

Already enough people helping her–but since I got out, didn’t that mean I already invested something into the situation?

I’d be of no use first-aid wise–but I had other resources that might become useful shortly (it was only after the fact that I remembered I had water in the trunk).

This guilt mentality isn’t helpful at all. I can accept that I did the right thing, I guess.

After parking the car, I had to cross an overpass to get to the station. From the overpass, I could still see the all the ambulances around the area. The victim was on a gurney, covered in an orange blanket. It was all so unreal. The thought crossed my mind that she looked like was already dead or something.

Well, I guess at this point, all I can do is say a prayer for the person who was hurt. No matter what had happened before, I know that she’s in good hands right now.