It happened suddenly.

The last thing Sarah remembered was turning the corner, when Max flung his body over hers, shielding her from impact.

Max was Sarah’s world, and he was her’s. He could not imagine a world where she was not in it. That is why she is still alive, and he is not.

It happened on a cold Friday evening in the late January. Max was driving his beloved girlfriend, Sarah home from a typical high school party. They turned a corner in the road and a drunk driver in a pickup truck crashed into them head on. Max’s first thought was of Sarah, and he flung himself across her to shield her from the oncoming truck. Sarah clung to Max as if it would save him too.

When the emergency vehicles arrived, it was an enormous pile of crushed metal and fire. They pulled Sarah and Max out. They were still clinging to each other.

Eight months later, Sarah woke up the medically induced coma and the first thing she did was call for Max. It was the most painful thing to have to tell her that the reason she was still alive was because of Max. She cried and refused to eat for three day.

A week later, after all the tests were taken and physical therapy scheduled, Sarah was ready to go home, but every familiar place she went reminded her of Max. Every night, she cried herself to sleep and every morning, woke up with tears streaming down her face because of the dream she had of Max. Sarah had become a ghost, a shell of her former self.

After four months, Sarah was able to bring herself to go the Max’s grave on the anniversary of his death.

“Max,” she broke down, “please, I need you, I can’t do this alone. Why did you have to leave me? Why were you able to save me but not save yourself? I’m all alone.”

“No, you’re not,” Sarah heard a familiar voice say and saw a pale white hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and smile.