The wind whipped the little car as it drove down the interstate. The man held onto the steering wheel with all his might. Rain droplets started to form on the windshield. He only had to make it to the next exit.

“5 miles Exit 12A,” the sign said.

He sped up; the dial on the dash moved from 75 to 87. The beads of rain started to fall harder and faster due to his speed. He could barely see the road.

“Keep to the left,” the calming GPS voice chimed.

He merged over into the left lane. The car pulled hard left. He struggled to regain control of the car.

I saw him coming; he was swerving around the road. He was about to hydroplane, I pulled over to prevent it from happening to me.

He hit a large puddle of water. His car pulled to the left and flew into the ditch near the interstate.

I pulled back onto the interstate and drove across the median to attempt to help. I grabbed my umbrella, stepped out of the car, and walked over to his.

He reached for the door handle. It opened faster than he expected. He stepped out of the car. He never really saw me. He called his friends to ask for help. They said they were on their way.

I stepped back into my car. He never noticed me, he never asked for my help.