“Brigs you wha ‘ere?” the grey haired man said as he walked down the street in a slightly crooked manner.

Jema and Boyd ignored him, laughing at him while they went.

“What’s his problem? Probly been drinkin’ too much, ya know!” Jema sneered.

“If I ever get like him, stuff me in a closet somewhere!” Boyd laughed as the snow swirled around them.

Jema waltzed over to the edge of the sidewalk and picked up some already fallen snow. Forming a snowball, she called out Boyd’s name. He was busy picking out some dirt from his boot. She tossed the packed snow as he looked up.

Just as he flinched, a purple van squealed around the corner. Boyd’s feet flew out from under him. Crashing to the ground, he let out a yelp and slid out into the road trying to get back on his feet.

Smack! Boyd’s body hit the front of the vehicle as the driver slammed on the brakes. Boyd landed on the ground with a sickening thud.

“Boyd, BOYD! No, no, no! Get up, you have to be okay!” Jema screamed.

“Oh no, what have I done?” the driver yelled as he yanked his cell phone from his vehicle.

Within minutes, the sirens could be heard. Jema and the driver stood over Boyd as they waited impatiently, crying and screaming. Paramedics arrived and loaded him onto the ambulance. Jema went with them to keep her best friend and only family member company.

As Jema waited at the hospital, she could barely contain herself. Why did she have to throw that snowball? Why couldn’t he have been paying attention? It was just so unfair.

Time seemed to go so slowly as she paced the floor. Finally a doctor came out.

“He’s awake but he’s going to take some time to heal. He’s not himself. He’s having a little trouble talking. He is disoriented but he may know who you are.”

This wasn’t the report that Jema wanted. He was supposed to be fine, absolutely fine. But at least he was alive. That was something to be thankful for. She took a deep breath as she prepared herself. She wasn’t really sure what to say. Did he blame her for the whole thing?

She walked slowly into the room, preparing herself for the worst. She saw him and tried to smile.

“Hi Boyd” she mumbled.

“Dima, he. Hefend wha?” Boyd said with a confused look on his face.

Jema didn’t respond as she tried to keep the tear from slipping out of the corner of her eye.