The fiery rose

Slow to my feet, the girl quickly grabs hold of me tight as she cried for her father. No one has ever gripped me like that before. It was new and somewhat shocking. What do I do? I quickly kneel down and embraced her as she continued to cry while sirens begin to sound from a distance. That damned bridge. I remember that event so vividly. What came next left me with even more questions than answers.
The police, ambulances and fire trucks arrive to the scene shortly after I pulled the girl out. I watched as they questioned her to see how coherent she was,”What’s your name?”
“Renee.”
“How old are you?”
“Twelve.”

I continued to watch on helplessly as she recounted the events leading up to the crash with very little emotion.
She gripped the cover the paramedics placed over her hard as each question kept driving in the fact that her father had died in front of her. I couldn’t help but, to place my hand on her shoulder as she began to weep again.

“Sir, Can I have you step over here?” The sergeant quickly called my attention away from Renee for a moment. I assumed it was to ask me questions about the accident.
“Do you know this little girl?”
“No, I was walking along the bridge walkway when I heard the truck crashing into the railing.”
I didn’t want to go through it again. I told my side of the story and that was that. Oh yeah, not to mention, to ex-fiancee kicking me out as well as it lead me to this point.
“Okay, we’re going to take the girl to County General so they can check her out. Do you need anything? A lift? A smoke?”
“No, I’m fine.”