Overlooking life, all I see is an empty sight. I was best at going with the flow, never thinking to be different. My mind was a closed book until my eyes caught her image. Right then, something clicked and as I opened my mind up for the first time, my heart tagged along.

I’m a typical young guy from the big apple, New York City. Also, like everybody else I’m just trying to make a living. The only thing that separates me from all the others is my transportation. I don’t drive a car, because I ride a bike. “Marc, you need a car. That bike’s going to get you killed.” Yes, I know. I’ve heard that a thousand times from everyone in this city. To be honest, it offends me to even hear that because my girlfriend died while riding a bike. She was my heart, my soul, my better half and a car took her life suddenly. Every time I think about her, she brings me back to our first day.

Normally, I don’t prefer coffee in the morning, but that Monday made everything seem different. As I was sitting in Café Coffee, I glanced up from the newspaper stocks and oh my, there she was. Her angelic figure was in her normal routine right across from me. There was no stopping me. I knew I had to hear her voice, maybe even carry on a conversation if her voice was as soft and smooth as I’d been imagining. I urged myself to get up from my booth and before my thoughts processed, I was standing two feet away from her.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Are you from around here?”

Her sweet voice spoke back, “Yes, uh, do I know you?”

“It’s just—I’ve never seen you before.”

She laughed. “There are thousands of people around here, so odds are, you haven’t.”

Smart and intelligent, I love that in a girl. I smiled and asked of her name.

“Saida, Saida Ramirez. Yours?”

“Marc Cerda.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Marc Cerda.” She added.

I’d made her smile continuously and laugh in the matter of three minutes. I was doing pretty well so far. I did tremendously well, apparently because the conversation went on. We talked about our personal lives and nonsense. As time passed, months actually, our “dates” became more frequent. Day and night she had my attention and I had hers.

It was three months and four days since we met and I wanted to make us official.

“Will you meet me by the small park on Main tonight? We haven’t had an outdoor picnic date yet. It’ll be fun.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” And once more, her smile flashed back at me.

The next day, September 8, around 5:00 pm, I waited at the small park on Main St. Usually, she’d beat me to everywhere we decided to go, but it was me today. Close to an hour passed by and I became frustrated because the food and drinks were becoming stale along with my patients. I even made the extra effort to borrow a friend’s car to show off a little and let her know I was about to make our life together serious. My first mistake, I impatiently got up and left. Second, I was driving so furiously that, third, I wasn’t paying attention and I hit a woman riding a bike down 25th St.

My first thought was that I was in a dream. This couldn’t have happened to me…or her in this case. Startled from the reality of the accident I just caused, I turned the car off and got out to check on how severe this all was. This is why I shouldn’t drive. This is why I don’t have a car. I quickly reminded myself. I looked around the edge of my car and there lie a shiny red bike and a beautiful woman. The wheel was spinning rapidly and as I gazed over the scene, I recognized a familiar face. I was stunned. I tried to look away, but my body said no. There she was, the girl that I had fallen in love with such a short time ago.

She was just lying there, breathless. No movement, but she had a small smile on her face. People rushed to see if she was okay. They wanted to know if she was alive, but she gave no response. The worst part was I just sat there on the ground, holding her cold hand and resting her head on my lap, looking into her blank eyes. The girl that I was going to call mine was gone.

I waited in the hospital waiting room for what seemed like days. Finally, a doctor approached me.
“This has your name on it. I thought you’d want to keep it. Oh, and her bag as well.”
I stared down at the white letter that the women gave me. When I opened it, in pink pen, fancy writing read:
Thought you needed a new bike.
In return, you can ask me to be your girl.
-Saida

I fell to my knees in overwhelming tears. Utter shock hit every part of me. I killed the first women I had ever loved.