During the interview before the race I announced my decision to retire and after brunch I explained the thoughts of the past week to my wife. She agreed the on all my points of views with me as she always did and I knew that I really was very lucky.
I put on my overalls and helmet. I put on my gloves and shoes and squashed into the cockpit. There was always a little squeeze since I went off my diet a few months ago. As the cars lined up, I started in pole position, the car next to me bared the bad smell of Nicky Cossack. The silly Yank was glaring at me with his pointy little eyes. I sensed his anger at losing on his home land, and he said some thing which I couldn’t hear over the cheering of the crowd. He put on his helmet and a few seconds later the green light was on and we were off.
I started strong, holding all my bends through the first ten laps. Nicky was right behind me as always and nonconformist, not one to bare a grudge as always. As the race went on Nicky was closing in on me every lap. He was now only a few hundredths of a second behind me. I slowed down a little more than I should have for the next bend and Nicky arrive level with me at the close of the bend. We went head to head for two laps. When we arrived at the perpendicular bend Nicky slowed down to let me in front, he then hit me from the back at a diagonal view with the point of his nose cone, the energy transfer was enough for my body to beat the upholstery like a little red headed step child, and my eyes filled up with tears but I held back just like a little red headed step child. I wasn’t annoyed too much until I realised the car was still spinning on the wet grass.
I started having flash backs to six years ago when my car was spinning and I felt nauseated. The car went head first into the tyres. I couldn’t hear anything but the boo’s and jeers that I expected where meant for Nicky. The pole that was keeping the tyres together, ripped into the side of the car. It pierced into my right leg and nailed me into the cockpit so that I wouldn’t be able to get out, the pain was so full that from waist down my whole body was numb and I experience a very painful headache. I took off my helmet and the first thing I noticed was the whiff of gas rushing into the harbour of my nostrils. The fear of the car blowing made me tug away at my leg trying pitifully to detach it from the pole. The pole did give way but at the expense of half my leg being cut from above the bone. I was screaming with anger, but it was no use, no one would hear me over the sound of the crowds. The blood had now filled the cockpit and I passed out my head went strait into the steering wheel but the comfortable handle had been knocked off during the crash and the black peace of metal made horrific contact with my cheek and strident all the way through my mouth. It grazed my tongue. My head rocked forward leaving my mouth open, trickling with buckets of blood. The rescue team arrived, they decided not to move me until I was transported to the closest hospital. The wing was removed as well as the half of the nose cone that was still attached to the car. The smell of the gas that I earlier noticed finally paid off when I and two members of the paramedics where blasted over the boundary tyres. The paramedics accumulated no specific injuries. My whole face was burnt. Because my mouth was left open, inside it was also burnt. The surface of my body was burnt to the bone. My legs where also burnt, however my right leg was torched from halfway down the thigh and onwards from the depths of the muscle and bone. In the hospital the doctors discovered that my all flesh on my body had been burnt. They explained to my wife that I was lucky to have died, because of a shortage of blood and not because of multiple burn wounds. That was the only little bit of salvation that was left for her.
