Helpless

I saw a woman get hit by a car today. I heard a loud bang as the car smashed into a utility pole. I turned around to see her hit the cement head first. Her hand was twitching and her arm was locked in a contorted position at her chest. I was absolutely certain I was watching her die, that my face would be the last thing she ever saw. We were completely alone. There was no one else around. I felt so miserable because I wanted to comfort her and take the fear from her eyes, but I could only stand over her in shock. Neurons finally triggered, shooting my hand into my pocket and dialing 119. The neurons weren't firing properly because it wasn't until the other person answered that I realized I needed someone who spoke Korean. I spun around looking for someone to help us. At this point, a motorcyclist had stopped at the crosswalk and I handed him the phone, slapping the back of my head. The driver stumbled out of her vehicle and ran over to the woman on the ground, who had now amassed quite a pool of blood and was laying still in shock. I wanted to help, but I felt so useless. I felt so helpless. She kept closing her eyes or trying to get up. I didn't know how to get her to keep her eyes open. I wanted to put pressure on her wound, but I wasn't sure what to use. I looked around and quite a crowd of people had gathered. They all looked on as useless as I was. The driver was screaming Oni and Otuke, which mean older sister and why. I started to feel I was as much a part of the problem as the solution. I didn't understand why everyone was watching, but no one was doing anything. No one knew what to do, but they had some sick curiosity about what would happen or had happened to this woman. I felt so useless. Worthless. Helpless. My stomach turned with that feeling and I couldn't shake it all day. I kept thinking about her lying there, possibly dying, but how would I know? On the way home I walked by the scene -- as I do nearly every day. I walked into the Daiso store on that corner and found the towels. I thought about how I could have helped her -- how anyone could have helped her. Yet, no one did. I don't ever want to feel that way again. By some inexplicable paradox, I usually gain strength from accepting my powerlessness and insignificance. It allows me to follow my passions thoroughly. This was different. I felt absolutely horrible. I felt like a pathetic excuse for a human being. I felt like an animal. It was absolute misery.