Wreck On The Highway

<div class="title-main">WRECK ON THE HIGHWAY</div> <div class="title-small"> Build 1.7 (Best experienced in desktop browser) </div> <div class="title-small">//by Chad Briggs//</div> <div class="title-small">(link-reveal: "http://www.chadbriggs.com")[(open-url: "http://www.chadbriggs.com")]</div> <div class="title-subheading"> [[START GAME|LovedOneName]] </div>

(set: $name to (prompt: "Enter the first name of a significant other:","Type Here")) (set: $favmusic to (prompt: "Enter the name of your favorite band or musical artist:","Type Here")) (if: $name is "Type Here" or $name is "")[Please type in a significant other's name. Try setup process [[again|LovedOneName]]. ] (else-if: $favmusic is "Type Here" or $favmusic is "")[Please type in a favorite band/musical artist name. Try setup process [[again|LovedOneName]].] (else:)[ Select the gender pronoun of the loved one you previously named: (link: "He/Him")[(set: $pronoun to "he")(goto: "start_story")] (link: "She/Her")[(set: $pronoun to "she")(goto: "start_story")] (link: "They/Them")[(set: $pronoun to "they")(goto: "start_story")] ]

<div class="body-firstline">(link-reveal: "Bug guts rhythmically explode against the glass.")[(show: ?line2)]</div> |line2)[The wipers of your car slap back and forth with diligence, but are a poor match against the well-fed country bugs on Route 37. You douse the windshield with jets of water for the umpteenth time, the wipers creating arcing streaks of insect goo. You convince yourself you've only made the visibility worse, also for the umpteenth time. Catching the red eye home has few upsides, but it does remove the annoyance of traffic on the driving portion of the trip. Two specs of bright light appear far down the road on the opposite side, reminding you that particular perk could be temporary. Your omnipresent co-pilot [[speaks out|phone-directions]]. ]

"In one mile, turn left on Highway 5. You are on the fastest route to your destination," your smartphone soothingly (link-reveal: "reassures")[(show: ?line2)] you. |line2)[ You smirk to yourself, wondering if she's taking into account the additional drag of the bug graveyard on your windshield. The two small headlights approaching in the darkness grow closer. You turn up the volume on the radio, amplifying your $favmusic playlist that flows through the car speakers via the [[miracle|miracle]] of Bluetooth technology. ]

You squint your eyes and peer down the road. Car still a decent distance. Driver still a high-beam loving douchebag. You turn your attention back to the phone and continue [[typing|keeptyping]].

(link-reveal: "...try...")[(show: ?line1)] |line1)[ (link-reveal: "...not...")[(show: ?line2)] |line2)[ (link-reveal: "...to...")[(show: ?line3)] |line3)[(link-reveal: "...wake...")[(show: ?line4)] |line4)[A bright [[halo|nearmiss]] forms around the edge of your phone.] ]]]

You tilt the phone to the side and see two huge, blinding lights. Not in the opposite lane where they belong, but in (link-reveal: "YOURS.")[(show: ?line2)] |line2)[(link-reveal: "Millions of synapses start firing.")[(show: ?line3)] |line3)[(link-reveal: "A volcanic eruption of adrenalin follows.")[(show: ?line4)] |line4)[You drop your phone immediately and place the free hand back on the wheel, yanking to the... [[...left.|leftyank]] [[...right.|rightyank]] ]]]

Your car lurches into the opposite lane, high-beam guy tearing off your side mirror as he speeds by. Your car is still banking left, heading towards a ditch just off the pavement. You [[slam on the brakes.|brakes]]

You yank the wheel hard to the right. You almost have enough room to clear the oncoming car but not quite. It clips the side of your vehicle hard, sending it spinning. Your car crashes into a row of fence posts on the side of the road, wood and wire shattering your windshield. Everything goes (link-reveal: "black")[(show: ?line2)]. |line2)[You come to, stars in your vision and your head throbbing. Searing pain radiates in your upper left shoulder. You blink your eyes furiously to focus them. A wooden shard has pierced your shoulder and pinned you to the seat. Blood is flowing heavily. In your rearview mirror you see flames consuming the other car. You cough and taste something [[metallic|tasteblood]] in your mouth. ]

The brakes grind against the wheels to slow them down, but not before one tire has hit gravel on the road's shoulder. The wheels lose traction and the car starts (link-reveal: "sliding.")[(show: ?line2)] |line2)[Awful scraping noises overwhelm you as you try yanking the wheel to recover some form of control. The scraping sounds are followed by loud crunches of deforming metal as the vehicle's side slams into a rocky ditch. Then everything [[stops.| ditch]] ]

For the better part of a minute, your body refuses to move. Your hands are still white knuckled on the wheel. Breathing comes short and harsh. You eventually muster a deeper (link-reveal: "inhale...")[(show: ?line2)] |line2)[and (link-reveal: "exhale...")[(show: ?line3)] |line3)[Having managed to lower your personal defcon rating a half stop, you look around the car. The driver's side of the car is wedged right up against the wall of the ditch, preventing any exit from that side. The driver's side window is shattered and the chilly night air wafts in from a section not blocked by dirt and shrubs. The passenger side of the vehicle faces upwards to the night sky, the car having tilted while sliding into the ditch. Your nose [[twitches|gassmell]] from an unusual scent.]]

It takes a second, but you realize the smell is gas. Your brain kicks back into overdrive, fear and panic starting to spread through your body. The smells get a little stronger. A flickering of orange and yellow light catches the corner of your eye. You... [[... climb out of the car as quickly as possible.|jumpup]] [[... push your fear aside and look at the light.|flicker]]

As you shift your body to climb out, you see your engagement ring box wedged between the dash and the windshield. You breathe a sigh of relief knowing it didn't go flying out of the car. You lurch your chest (link-reveal: "forward")[(show: ?line1)] to grab it. |line1)[Your chest and shoulder hit an invisible brick wall, as the seat belt you've forgotten does its job restraining you to the seat. The recoil of being yanked back causes your foot to come crashing down on your cell phone, which had tumbled to the floorboard. The sound of expensive OLED glass cracking makes you grimace. You look down and see not only a wide, spiderweb crack on the screen, but also a sea of purple and green lines streaking vertically across the display. [[Shit!|shitdamnphone]] ]

You turn your head towards the pulsing light, which is coming from outside the rear window. In the distance, you see that Mr.High-Beam's car has crashed into a guardrail. It's hard to make out from here, but the impact looks quite severe. The light you noticed is coming from a blinking turn signal on the car's rear end. Could it be the gas smell was carried downwind from there? As you turn back to the front of your car, you observe your seat belt has you securely anchored to the driver's seat. Oh how $name gave you endless teasing when you refused to budge on a five star (link-reveal: "safety")[(show: ?line2)] rating. |line2)[You take a deep breath and climb up, grabbing the passenger side armrest. Steadying yourself, you [[exit|forgetsomething]] out of the car. (set: $phone to false) (set: $phone_status to true) (set: $ringbox to false) ]

Outside the car, you take another deep breath with your hands on your knees. Squinting, you take a better (link-reveal: "look")[(show: ?line2)] at the wreckage of the other car. |line2)[Mr. High-Beams must have been going at considerable speed, as the car is crumpled like paper around the steel guardrail. Its blinking turn signal beckons in the night, inviting you to come near. Growing liquid spreads on the ground near the wreck, which you presume is the source of the gas smell. Douchebag or not, you know you need to go over and check on the driver. As you start to head over, you feel you've [[forgotten|forgetwhat]] something. ]

You cautiously approach the car of Mr. High-Beam. As you get closer, you see a BMW logo on the rear of what appears to be a more sporty model. Your gaze travels upwards and through the rear window where you see a male head slumped over in the driver's side. The gas smell is very strong now. As you draw nearer, you yell out "Hey mister! You (link-reveal: "okay")[(show: ?line2)]?" |line2)[Nothing. You shout again. The man does not move. You notice some flickering flames start to appear near the engine, slowly emerging from cracks in the hood and the wheel well. Your brain lurches and stumbles trying to think of what to do. You have no idea if the car fire will get worse, how much time the man has, or even if it's safe to move him. What if you both die in the rescue attempt? Some of the last texts from $name [[flash|loverwords]] in your head. ]

Reckless douchebag or no, this man is important to someone. He's someone's son. Maybe someones's husband? Even someone's father? Tragedy and loss will not happen tonight, as long as there is something you can (link-reveal: "do")[(show: ?line2)] about it. |line2)[You rush over to the driver's side door and look in. The man is bleeding heavily from a large gash on his head. His shirt is soaked with blood and broken glass is all over. A vial of white powder is open on the dash, flecks of it all over the inside. The flames swell larger, the heat starting to feel uncomfortable on your skin. The smell of gas is more pungent than ever. Fear washes over you and you waver on your decision. You... ...steady your resolve, grab the door, then [[heave|doorheave]]. ...turn and [[scurry|walkback]] away from the threatning flames. ]

The growing flames tell you the current situation threatens your life as well as his. This guy could be a saint, or he could be the rude, reckless jackass he appears to be from your limited experience together. He might be a drugged out narcissist. A murderer even. No way to know. But you do know that if you die helping him, you've caused $name immense grief. If you die, you would never lay eyes on $name again. Your relationship would end before the best years truly (link-reveal: "began")[(show: ?line2)]. |line2)[You take steps back. Internal conflict makes each step less than confident, but you think of $name and persist. Right as you are about to stop moving away from the wreck, the flames on the car consume the interior with a rushing //FWOOSHH!// The realization that a man who might be alive is burning inside the vehicle hits you all at once. You rush to the side of the road and [[vomit|vomitroad]]. ]

Right as you feel you've dragged the man to a safe enough distance, the car's blaze flares up with a //FWOOOSH//, consuming the interior. You stumble back on your rear, still holding the man. You try and catch your breath, gawking at the blaze. Looking down at the man's head, you notice the contusion looks awful, and the bleeding is still active. You check his pulse. Faint but there. You let out a sigh of (link-reveal: "relief")[(show: ?line2)]. |line2)[(if: $phone_status is true and $phone is true)[You reach down and pull out your phone. Dialing 911, you listen for the [[operator|mansaved]] to pick up.] (elseif: $phone is true and $phone_status is false)[You reach down for your phone. The memory of its shattered screen reminds you that's not an option, causing panic to swell. Your stuck on this remote country road with no way to call for [[help|mandied]].] (else:) [You reach down for your phone. Multiple unsuccessful searches of all your pockets fill your gut with panic. You are stuck on this remote country road with no way to call for [[help|mandied]].] ]

The operator picks up and you start babbling a million words a minute, all in no helpful order. She calms you down, enabling you to collect yourself long enough to get her the necessary info on your whereabouts. The EMT crews arrive on the scene with you holding a rag on the wound, covered in his blood. They take over and prop him on the gurney, administering (link-reveal: "aid")[(show: ?line2)]. |line2)[You watch the paramedics load him into the ambulance and shut the doors, wondering if he'll make it. In your head you picture a stoic state trooper knocking on the door, delivering the tragic news in the dark, cold night. "He's got a fighting [[chance|fightingchance]]," a voice says. ]

Eventually, help does come. But not before the man's pulse begins to (link-reveal: "falter...")[(show: ?line1)] |line1)[...and then (link-reveal: "stop")[(show: ?line11)]. |line11)[As you are bathed in the flashing lights of emergency vehicles, you sit on the pavement stunned. You mumble out the meekest of answers to a peppering of questions from police and paramedics. They hand you a blanket as if it's some cheap form of consolation. You apathetically take it, drawing it around you to calm post-trauma shivers heightened by the [[cold|coldair]] country air. ]]

Hello [[go|walkback]] (set: $phone to false) (set: $ringbox to false) (set: $phone_status to false)

<div class="title-subheading"> THE END </div> <div class="title-small">[[Play Again|Title Screen]]  </div>

After three shaky button presses, 911 is dialed. Much later, the flashing lights of a small EMT vehicle armada cascade across your face. Your voice cracks and wavers as you explain how Mr. High-Beams ran you off the road. How the fire ignited almost immediately once he impacted on the guardrail. Once they are satisfied with your answers, they leave you (link-reveal: "alone")[(show: ?line2)]. |line2)[You go back over by your car while the EMT's start talking amongst themselves. Your insides feel cold and empty. You raise your phone and hover over $name's name once more. You construct your [[reality|newreality]]. ]

Thirty minutes later, you still have not moved. The air has gotten colder, but you seem unfazed. The fire has mostly died at this point, having fully consumed the car. The torture of crackling flames has given away to the horrid smell of burning leather and what you assume to be flesh. A car finally (link-reveal: "arrives")[(show: ?line1)] at the scene. |line1)[A lady gets out and comes over. As she nears you, her intuition gets the better of her and she pauses. She yells out, "Hey there! Are you [[hurt|imnotokay-ring]]?" ]

(set: $search_phrase to (prompt: "What did you forget? Type 'Nothing' without apostrophes if you didn't forget anything.","Type Here"))(if: $search_phrase is "phone" or "cell phone" or "smart phone" or "cell" or "Phone" or "Cell phone" or "Smart phone" or "Cell" or "Cell Phone" or "Smart Phone" and $phone is false and $phone_status is true)[(set:$phone to true)You realize your only hope of calling for help is still in your car. You hustle back over and lean in the passenger window, where you spy it laying on the floorboard. After crawling back in, you are barely able to reach and snatch it up. Your body awkwardly makes the journey back out of the car and returns to the road. You contemplate dialling 911, but tell yourself you should check driver first. Anything [[else|forgetwhat]] you might have forgotten?](else-if: $search_phrase is "phone" or "cell phone" or "smart phone" or "cell" or "Phone" or "Cell phone" or "Smart phone" or "Cell" or "Cell Phone" or "Smart Phone" and $phone_status is false)[No point in going back for that, it's useless. Anything [[else|forgetwhat]]?] (else-if: $search_phrase is "phone" or "cell phone" or "smart phone" or "cell" or "Phone" or "Cell phone" or "Smart phone" or "Cell" or "Cell Phone" or "Smart Phone" and $phone is true and $phone_status is true)[You've already got the phone. Anything [[else|forgetwhat]] you might have forgotten?] (else-if: $search_phrase is "ring" or "ring box" or "engagement ring" or "Ring" or "Ring box" or "Engagement ring" or "Ring Box" or "Engagement Ring" and $phone_status is false and $ringbox is false and $phone is true)[(set:$ringbox to true)Another jolt of panic sets in. The ring! You hurry back over to your car and lean in. After several minutes of rummaging around awkwardly in the dark, your hand makes contact with a small, palmed sized box. You let out a sigh of relief and pocket the box. You ponder if there was anything [[else|forgetwhat]]?](else-if: $search_phrase is "ring" or "ring box" or "engagement ring" or "Ring" or "Ring box" or "Engagement ring" or "Ring Box" or "Engagement Ring" and $phone is false and $ringbox is false)[(set:$ringbox to true) Another jolt of panic sets in. The ring! You hurry back over to your car and lean in. After several minutes of rummaging around awkwardly in the dark, your hand makes contact with a small, palmed sized box. You let out a sigh of relief and pocket the box. You ponder if there was anything [[else|forgetwhat]]?](else-if: $search_phrase is "ring" or "ring box" or "engagement ring" or "Ring" or "Ring box" or "Engagement ring" or "Ring Box" or "Engagement Ring" and $ringbox is true)[You already have the ring. Forget anything [[else|forgetwhat]]?](else-if: $search_phrase is "ring" or "ring box" or "engagement ring" or "Box" or "box" or "Ring" or "Ring box" or "Engagement ring" or "Ring Box" or "Engagement Ring" and $ringbox is false and $phone is true)[(set:$phone_status to false)(set:$ringbox to true)(set:$phone to false)Another jolt of panic sets in. The ring! You hurry back over to your car and lean in. After several minutes of rummaging around awkwardly in the dark, your hand makes contact with a small, palmed sized box. You let out a sigh of relief. However, as you attempt to wiggle back to an upright position, your phone (link-reveal: "slips out")[(show: ?line2)] from your loose pockets. |line2)[It tumbles downwards into the car, landing screen first onto a piece of rigid, pointy metal protruding from the car seat. The sound of expensive OLED glass cracking makes you grimace. From there, it tumbles to the floor where you originally found it. You see not only a spiderweb crack on the screen, but a sea of purple and green lines streaking vertically across the display. You scramble to retrieve the phone again, but the screen refuses to accept input. You toss it back in the car. Exiting back to the road, you ponder if there was anything [[else|forgetwhat]]?]](else-if: $search_phrase is "ring" or "ring box" or "engagement ring" or "Ring" or "Ring box" or "Engagement ring" or "Ring Box" or "Engagement Ring" and $phone_status is false and $ringbox is false and $phone is true)[(set:$ringbox to true)Another jolt of panic sets in. The ring! You hurry back over to your car and lean in. After several minutes of rummaging around awkwardly in the dark, your hand makes contact with a small, palmed sized box. You let out a sigh of relief and pocket the box. You ponder if there was anything [[else|forgetwhat]]?] (else-if: $search_phrase is "Type Here")[You need to type something to look for or type in the word 'Nothing' without apostrophes to continue on. Try [[again|forgetwhat]].](else-if: $search_phrase is "" or "Nothing" or "nothing")[You reassure yourself you got everything you need and head over to Mr.High-Beam's [[car|nearcar]].](else:) [Your positive you didn't forget that. Anything [[else|forgetwhat]]?]

<div class="title-small"><u>A Note From The Author</u></div> Hi! Hope you enjoyed playing this twine as much as I enjoyed making it. I set out to create a twine story in three hours using the following story elements: Magnifying glass, fountain, clock, compass, eye These elements could be metaphorical or actual physical items. The core story began to take shape as I started riffing on the idea of driving down a country road at night, coming upon a wreck. That scene seemed ripe for all kinds of questions about one's mortality and the value of life. Running with that idea, in addition to the aforementioned rules, I set out to accomplish three things: <u>''High player anxiety and tension throughout the game.''</u> I wanted the player to feel the weight of split second decisions that have lofty repercussions. <u>''Reflection on how finite and short our lives can be.''</u> By the end of the story I hoped the player would not only take a good look at just how finite our time in this life can be, but also recognize the slippery slope of making a judgement on the value of human life. <u>''Multiple endings.''</u> I was shooting for 3, I got 5. I wanted the endings to be triggered not only by the choices you made, but also what you had in your inventory at the moment of certain choices. <u>''Make the stakes seem personal.''</u> To make the stakes of the game more real, I added custom info about the player's life from user input. The actual first pass time was about three hours as noted, but I could only get about 1/4th of the way through the twine before time expired. It was also my second twine story ever, so there was the obvious syntax and CSS research that accompanied the inexperience. I spent another few hours finishing it and sanding off as many rough edges as possible after my initial timeframe. Thanks for playing and would love any feedback or thoughts you might have! Feel free to [[play again|Title Screen]]. -Chad

You keep your hands on the wheel, continuing to hum along to the $favmusic playlist. Your hands drum on the steering wheel to the beat, quickly escalating to you belting out the chorus at the top of your lungs. The headlights down the road draw closer, but seem unusually bright. The driver has his high beams on. You rapidly (link-reveal: "toggle")[(show: ?line2)] your own high beam a few times to signal him what's up. |line2)[ Nothing. His high beams stay on. "Douchebag," you blurt out under your breath and look over at the clock. It's [[1:30 AM|itsgettinglate]]. ]

Your eyes fixated on the road, you (link-reveal: "grope around")[(show: ?line2)] for the phone on the front seat's middle island. |line2)[Your hand finally lands on the phone. You hold the phone up in front of you, resting it on the steering wheel of the car. Your eyes dart back and forth from the road to the phone, attempting to drive and read at the same time. You open up the [[message|messagecheck]]. ]

"Patience," you tell yourself, scanning your eyes on down road. Mr. High-Beam is getting closer. The thought of $name's name makes you smile. Your eyes still on the road, your hand reaches over and clasps a small box containing a diamond ring on the passenger seat. $name is going be fast asleep at the hour you arrive. No way the big question is getting popped tonight. "Fluffy breakfast pancakes followed by bended knee it is then," you (link-reveal: "sigh")[(show: ?line2)]. |line2)[You place the box back in the passenger seat and then skip through a few songs on your $favmusic playlist. The headlights of the approaching car start to wobble and veer towards the road's left shoulder. It then does a jerky course correct to center itself on the road, but its high beams are still blazing. "That's [[weird|squint]]," you mutter out loud. ]

A short arrangement of musical chimes emit from your phone, punctuated by its bright coda that indicates a new text message. You... ...ignore the phone and keep your [[eyes on the road|road01noglance]]. ...take a quick [[glance|road01glance]] down at the phone.

(link-reveal: "Ugh.")[(show: ?line2)] |line2)[You're at least another hour out from home. You start to fret the text could be important given how late it is. Might be $name. You eyeball the stretch of gravel on the shoulder of the road. There is enough room there to stop safely. You... ... take no chances with safety and [[pull over|road02noglance]] to the side of the road. ... see no harm in taking a quick [[glance down|road01glance]] to see who it is. ]

You squint your eyes as Mr. High-Beam gets closer, clenching your hands on the wheel. While he is still pissing you off with his blinding halogen bulbs, he seems to be holding steady and is about to pass. You (link-reveal: "relax")[(show: ?line4)] your grip a bit and stop holding your breath. |line4)[As you unclench, the next two seconds become a paradox. They pass in the span of an eye blink, yet seem to linger (link-reveal: "forever")[(show: ?line5)]. |line5)[Your brain can't keep up, can't process it. One minute the car is about to (link-reveal: "pass")[(show: ?line6)] you... |line6)[...and the next it has taken a hard, sharp departure over towards the opposite lane. (link-reveal: "YOUR")[(show: ?line7)] lane. |line7)[The headlights are now blinding you, blasting the interior of your car with a flood of harsh, white photons. You yank your steering wheel to the... [[...left.|leftyank]] [[...right.|rightyank]] ]]]]

You grunt in feeble anger at your situation, trying to control the pain surging through your body. Your head bobs up and you see the ring box on the dash. Next to it lies your phone, its screen shattered from the crash and the electronic guts exposed. Even though it sends rivers of agony through your shoulder, you manage to grab the box with your unpinned side. You flick the box (link-reveal: "open")[(show: ?line4)]. |line4)[The diamond glistens against the moonlight. A cold night breeze comes through the broken glass and cools your skin, slick with sweat. You close your eyes and think of $name. And you think of [[time.|moretime]] ]

You thought you had more (link-reveal: "time")[(show: ?line2)]. |line2)[More (link-reveal: "time")[(show: ?line3)] with $name. |line3)[More (link-reveal: "time")[(show: ?line4)] with your family. |line4)[More (link-reveal: "time")[(show: ?line5)] to chase your dreams. |line5)[More time to fill your life with (link-reveal: "meaningful things")[(show: ?line5)]. |line5)[The shimmering visions of what could have been are infected by a strain of black, lingering [[doubt|doubt]]. ]]]]]

Could you have gotten an earlier flight? Waited till the morning? Yanked the wheel left? These questions torment you in your dwindling last (link-reveal: "moments")[(show: ?line2)]. |line2)[Your eyes grow (link-reveal: "heavy")[(show: ?line3)]. |line3)[You struggle to keep them open as you attempt another glance at the (link-reveal: "ring")[(show: ?line4)]. |line4)[The glint from the diamond makes you think of the light in $name's eyes. Your own eyes listlessly (link-reveal: "close")[(show: ?line5)]. |line5)[Your hand goes (link-reveal: "limp")[(show: ?line6)]. |line6)[The ring box [[falls|thend]]. ]]]]]

It's $name. "Hey babe, heading to bed. Drive safe and see you soon! Love ya! 8^*,"(if: $pronoun is "he")[ he says.] (else-if: $pronoun is "she")[ she says.] (else:)[ they say.] (link-reveal: "Crap")[(show: ?line2)]. |line2)[No way you make it home before (if: $pronoun is "he")[he lights] (else-if: $pronoun is "she")[she lights] (else:)[they light] out. The diamond ring riding shotgun will have to wait. "Fluffy breakfast pancakes followed by bended knee it is then," you sigh. You tilt the phone to the side and look down the (link-reveal: "road")[(show: ?line3)]. |line3)[The headlights of the car approaching are still on high-beams, heralding a potential temporary blinding of your eyeballs. Annoying. Seeing he's still a reasonable distance away, you tilt the phone back to reading position on the steering wheel and start to type with one [[hand|onehand]]. ]]

Your thumb darts across the tiny keyboard, manifesting the (link-reveal: "words")[(show: ?line2)] of your text. |line2)[(link-reveal: "Thanks...")[(show: ?line3)] |line3)[(link-reveal: "...love...")[(show: ?line4)] |line4)[(link-reveal: "...will...")[(show: ?line5)] |line5)[A bright [[halo|nearmiss]] forms around the edge of your phone. ]]]]

You mentally damn yourself to a thousand hells as you scramble to unbuckle the seat belt. You pick up the phone and frantically start pressing the screen and buttons. Nothing. It's toast. You toss the phone back on the floorboard. You mutter additional profane curses at yourself for good measure, then pull yourself up and [[climb out|forgetsomething]] of the car. (set: $phone to false) (set: $phone_status to false) (set: $ringbox to false)

"Drive safe and see you soon! Love ya!" As the words echo in your head, you know what you must do. You... ... head towards the man to pull him [[out|pullout]]. ... start backing up [[away|walkback]] from the car.

Thankfully, despite the mangled shape of the car, the door opens with a good tug. As it opens, he starts tilting sideways out of the car, no seat belt holding him in place. You catch him before he slumps to the ground. Once your arms are hooked under his shoulders, you start to drag the man [[away|roadcontemplateman]] from the wreck.

Guilt closes around your gut and twists your insides. Something rises in your throat. If you had your phone, would they have gotten there in time? Would he have lived? You wonder if tonight's choices have forever tainted all your future ones. You try reconciling all the variables and what-ifs, but you realize you may go mad. There are no answers. (link-reveal: "No truths")[(show: ?line3)] to set you free. |line3)[You pull the blanket tighter and bury your head in your knees. A moment later, a police officer comes over and hands you a phone. "It's $name," he says. You swallow hard, your eyes growing glassy. You grab the phone and put it to your ear. [["Hey $name..."|thend]] ]

You snap out of your thoughts and look over. One of the police officers is standing nearby. "Uh... sorry... what's that?" you ask. "Paramedic told me odds look like he'll make it. You gave him a chance to (link-reveal: "live")[(show: ?line4)]." |line4)[You take a deep breath and sigh. "That's good," you say nodding at the officer. "What about you?" the officer asks. "You got anybody you want to call?" You smile faintly and shake your head yes. In the chaos of the past hour, you forgot to call $name. You dial $name's number. The line connects. "Hey babe... it's me.... no, no.. everything's fine. Promise. It's just... just been a long [[night|thend]]." ]

You lurch back to your car, facing away from the burning wreckage of Mr.High-Beams. (If: $phone_status is true and $phone is true)[You pull out your cell phone and scroll through the contacts. Your thumb hovers over $name's](else-if: $phone is false and $ringbox is false)[You reach down for your phone and find nothing. You darkly muse that recent choices are severing you from the life you had. You heave more stomach acid onto the road. Pulling yourself back up, the crackling sounds from the flames of Mr. High-Beam's car fill the air. The sounds torture you while you wait for a random car to [[stumble on the wreck|badendingnoring]].](else-if: $ringbox is true and $phone is false)[You reach down for your phone and find the ring box instead. You slowly open the lid, the flames behind you dancing across the surface of the gem. Slamming the box shut, you heave more stomach acid onto the road. Pulling yourself back up, the crackling sounds from the flames of Mr. High-Beam's car fill the air. The sounds torture you while you wait for a random car to [[stumble on the wreck|badendingring]].] (else:)[]

(link-reveal: "The driver was a maniac. Probably high.")[(show: ?line4)] |line4)[ (link-reveal: "Likely had criminal background, you convince yourself. Stole millions in ponzi schemes. Ruined the lives of hundreds. At least.")[(show: ?line5)] |line5)[(link-reveal: "Your life was just as worthy as his.")[(show: ?line6)] |line6)[You Think of $name. The pain your (link-reveal: "death")[(show: ?line7)] would have caused (if: $pronoun is "he")[him] (else-if: $pronoun is "she")[her] (else:)[them]. |line7)[You press $name's name. As the phone rings, you tilt your head back and let a dream of your new life together silence the wail of your [[conscience|thend]]. ]]]]

You don't respond. Your mind is replaying the blaze of the car on a loop, along with all the moments that lead up to it. The lady dares not come closer. She walks back to her car and shuts the door. Your head tilts over just far enough to see her dial a number on her phone and lock her doors. You (link-reveal: "wait")[(show: ?line3)] some more. |line3)[Soon the scene is flooded with EMT vehicles. The woman is whispering with a police officer, trying not to look you in the eye. A paramedic is bandaging you up, asking you about your medical history. At best, you manage a curt nod yes or no, but offer no verbal responses. Eventually, you are loaded into the [[ambulance|imnotokay-ring-ambulance]]. ]

Right before the ambulance doors close, a paramedic walks up holding the engagement ring box. "Hey, this (link-reveal: "yours")[(show: ?line4)]? Found it on the pavement." |line4)[You can't go back to your normal life. Not after your actions tonight. You shake your head (link-reveal: "no")[(show: ?line5)]. |line5)[The paramedic shuts the doors. As the ambulance starts moving, the growing noise from the accelerating engine fills the vehicle. You bury your head in your knees, thankful that those sounds are drowning out the anguished wails that have taken root in your [[soul|thend]]. ]]

As you sit down in the back seat, you pull the blanket they've given you around your body as tight as you can. You look over and see the wreckage of your car down the road. You remember the ring box is still inside. You start to say something to the EMT's but then (link-reveal: "stop")[(show: ?line4)]. |line4)[Memories of your recent actions subdue any dreams of a normal life. You turn your head (link-reveal: "away")[(show: ?line5)] from the tiny box that lies somewhere in the dark wreckage. |line5)[A paramedic comes by and shuts the doors. As the ambulance starts moving, the growing noise from the accelerating engine fills the vehicle. You bury your head in your knees, thankful that those sounds are drowning out the anguished wails that have taken root in your [[soul|thend]]. ]]

Hello [[go|forgetwhat]] (set: $phone to false) (set: $ringbox to false) (set: $phone_status to true)