"Well I've never prayed before, tonight I'm on my knees"

It's been 3 days but it's still so hard to wrap my mind around what happened.. It seems as if I was in a really terrible dream.

I can still see her disappearing right in front of my eyes, out of that goddamn door. How ironic, the emergency door was the reason why she's lying in the trauma ICU at this moment.

I can still see her trace of tears. She must have been so painful and helpless. It seemed like it took forever to get the bus to stop, to run to her. As I held her head, pressed on the bleeder, I could feel her blood wetting my hand. It wasn't until at that moment did I truly realize how fragile we really are.
MERT got there, ambulance got there, security got there. I stood there as they took care of her, hands tremoring. We told them what happened, told them what we did. Finally went to UHS, washed my hands. Stared blankly at the dried blood slowly washing down the sink, I felt it was the most surreal thing. It was her blood. Her blood. Her blood from her head that got hit when she fell out of a speeding up bus.
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Finally got to see her today. She's still heavily sedated, with all those tubes in her, arms restrained. Her hair's shaved off. I saw the spot where she hit her head. Still looks bloody.

I'm so relieved though, to hear all the positive signs. She woke up once and somehow removed the tube in her mouth. She dropped the f-bomb. She's responsive to the doctors. Such a fighter. I'm glad that she has such a strong family supportive system too. Her dad told me about her waking up. "Her eyes were open, and there I saw the beautiful brown eyes. And I thought, there she is." I almost cried. It's so terrible that they had to get a call like that. They should never come visit their daughter in such circumstances.

It should never have happened. To anyone.
There's no sense into what happened.

All I can tell myself and others is that she's stable now. I should stop second-guessing myself. I helped, a little. She's such a trooper. She will come back, she will sing and play her piano again. She will be next to us again, laughing.