Allison Renard

The wind felt clean. Fast. Like nothing could catch me. The road stretched open, mine and mine alone. For a second, I felt free. Then the back tire slipped. The bike jerked sideways. My chest lifted, weight gone. For a heartbeat, I was flying—weightless. Then the ground punched back. Metal scraped. Bones thudded. Rain exploded around me. The helmet slammed first. Cracks spiderwebbed across the visor—until it gave in. A shard split down the center. One eye exposed. My blue eye. Half open. Glazed. I couldn’t move. Breathing hurt. Rain tapped my face. The taste of metal coated my tongue. Then her scream cut through it. “Allison…” She was running. Fast. Voice cracking. She fell beside me, yanking her helmet off. Her eyes locked on mine—the one she could still see. “Please—please stay with me.” My fingers twitched. Just once. Just enough.