Thursday, 12 November 2009


After whinging on at you all on Monday night, something happened this morning which has given me pause for thought.

I was finishing off my breakfast (Bovril on toast, as usual) when a helicopter flew over my house. This isn't unusual, but this one sounded like it was about to scrape our roof off, and it was scarily low. Instead of heading over to the hospital, as all the others do, it disappeared below some trees, close by.

I thought no more about it, and packed my bag ready to head into university and finish off the worst essay of all time. I live at the top of a great big hill, and when I began to start the descent downhill I stopped for a moment, as right at the bottom of the hill I could see 3 ambulances and 5 police cars. Oh-oh. I ambled down, managed to duck under the police cordon and surveyed the scene. And then promptly wished that I hadn't.

I've just sat here and wondered if I should tell you the details, as it seems a bit heartless doing it on a blog. But I figure that I've told some people already today, and the details are easily accessible on the internet.

A Peugeot and a motorbike had had a fight, and the guy on the bike clearly hadn't won. The Peugeot had a damaged front, whilst the bike was completely written off. Amongst the glass and the blood sprayed all over the road, ambulance crews were giving CPR to a figure who, luckily, was shaded from my view by a thick blanket that was covering him. I stood in shock for a few moments, than a policeman came and politely moved me on. All the roads had been closed off, so I walked through the park, right past the helicopter. So that's where it landed.

On the train coming over to Wolverhampton I couldn't think of anything else, and even though I tried to remain positive for the man, I knew it was unlikely. A few hours later I read on the internet that he was taken to the hospital, where he was pronounced dead.

Part of me wants to add this to the list of reasons why I want 2009 to end right now. But another part of me thinks that if ever there was a moment to consider your own mortality, seeing a person dying in front of you is pretty much it. I am lucky to be alive. Regardless what happens with essays, girls, finances, sport, family and everything else. We are lucky to be alive.

In case you desperately want to know where I live:

1 comment:

  1. Funny, mortality's been on my mind for the past few days. Don't envy you your experience though. We all know death's real - but seeing it close-up removes any distance from it. Keep taking the train…