Izzy slammed the door behind her, the echoes of her argument with her mother still ringing in her ears. The fight had been worse than usual—Lila's words, sharp and unrelenting, had cut deeper than she was willing to admit. There was a constant tension between them lately, a silent battle waged in the shadows of their small apartment. And today, everything had snapped.
Izzy had never been one to walk away from her mother, but today, she couldn't stay. Not when the walls felt like they were closing in on her, suffocating her under the weight of expectations, of responsibilities she hadn't chosen. Her mother's health, her endless needs, her silent pleas for Izzy to keep everything together—it was too much. There was a part of Izzy that longed for freedom, for the life she had put on hold for years.
She didn't have a destination in mind—just anywhere that wasn't there. As she walked down the street, her steps quick and uneven, the cool evening air did little to calm the storm inside her. It wasn't just the argument. It was the way she had felt her whole life, trapped in a cycle of sacrifice and self-doubt, always trying to be the person everyone else needed her to be.
Without thinking, Izzy found herself walking faster, almost running as the sounds of the city faded behind her. She needed to escape.
But as she turned a corner, she froze.
There, just a few feet ahead of her, a car swerved violently out of control, its tires screeching against the pavement. The screeching of metal on asphalt filled the air as the vehicle spun, heading straight for the sidewalk. The world seemed to slow, the chaos of the moment pulling her out of her thoughts and into something much more immediate. The car hit the curb, the sound of it crashing into a lamppost shaking her to her core. A figure inside the car slumped forward, motionless.
Without thinking, Izzy rushed forward, her feet moving faster than her mind could catch up. She didn't hesitate, didn't pause to question what she was doing. The fight with her mother, the overwhelming weight of her own life, all of it faded away in the face of the immediate need to act.
The figure inside the car was still, but the rise and fall of their chest was faint, barely noticeable. Izzy's heart raced as she pulled open the door of the wrecked car. The man inside—young, dark hair—was barely conscious, his face pale, eyes fluttering.
She reached for her phone, hands trembling, and dialed 911, her voice shaky as she relayed the situation. Her heart pounded in her ears, the adrenaline of the moment pushing aside everything else. Stay with him, don't leave him alone, she thought, her focus narrowing to the man in the car.
Minutes felt like hours before the ambulance arrived, but by then, Izzy's pulse had slowed, the shock of the accident still buzzing under her skin. The paramedics took over, lifting the man onto a stretcher, their voices a blur of professionalism.
As they loaded him into the ambulance, one of the paramedics turned to Izzy, his eyes briefly meeting hers. "You did the right thing. We'll take it from here."
Izzy stood frozen for a moment longer, the weight of the scene settling over her like a heavy fog. Her hands shook as she tucked her phone into her pocket. The fight with her mother seemed miles away, as if it had never even happened. Everything felt surreal, as though her life had been suspended for just a moment in time.
But there was no going back.
Izzy walked away, her mind a storm of thoughts. The guilt, the uncertainty—everything still tugged at her, but now, something else stirred inside her. She had been there when someone needed her, in a way she hadn't been for herself in years. And as she turned the corner and headed back toward her apartment, the possibility of something new began to form in the back of her mind.
Maybe it was time to stop running from her own life.