The violin and its disintegrated parts lay strewn across the road, its case crushed by the wheels that didn't brake in time.
Her legs were contorted, twisted in a grotesque position knees down. She laid quietly, like a puppet that was thrown out of the window. Blood was draining youth away from her face, her mouth agape and her eyes wide, as if her soul was being wrenched away with great force. Her hands were hardened claws, claws that told of shock. It was all too sudden. She wasn't ready to leave.
The headlights were shattered. There was already a small crowd gathering around the corpse. A man in lime green spouted vulgarities at the driver in iration. The people did not know what to do, except to wait for the ambulance to come, and perhaps save her from death. At least she might just be paralysed or she might just need prosthetics.
And the commotion went on, the man in lime green still hollering at the driver. But no one noticed her anymore, the gnarled body of the girl who wasn't ready to die.
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