Sand Timer- Part 9 (Charlie)

I stood there, paralysed in shock. Sirens wailed somewhere behind me, but my vision was locked upon the unconscious woman struggling for breath in her smoking car. I didn't know what to do. What should I have done? My heart was racing and I, myself, couldn't breath either. She looked dazed. Her head rolled on her shoulders. Her hair was dark auburn, the orange streetlight reflected light onto it's single, waving strands. It glinted and shone. It waved delicately through the air in the still working air con wind. It moved like a specter, ghostly bodies struggling meekly against her scalp. It sparkled like crimson stars, scarlet like blood.  Before I knew what I was doing, I was beside the car door and fighting against the traffic light to get it open. People shouted all around me but I had to free her. My muscles were weak and malnourished, yet still I fought. It edged further and further open, grating against the smashed traffic light. Then- yes! Just a little further- the metal screeched as it tore itself apart. Then with one final tug, it was free and I had only a seat belt and battered foot area to compete with. Slammed the red button to release the seat belt and tucked away the growing airbag which had gone off too late. But her legs were trapped in the bent foot space by the pedals and I didn't know how to free them. A man to my left shoved me out of the way and took out a great set of rusted metal pliers and banged away at the crumpled metal until there was enough space. Then, I watched as he lifted her up from the bloodied seat and carried her away to an ambulance.
"Wait!" I called to them.
The fireman turned.
"Please! Please, is she OK? Will she live?" I begged, running over to her lifeless body tucked onto a stretcher and his kneeling figure.
"Well, I'm not a doctor," he told me. "It's not my place to make judgments."
My face fell, noticeably.
"But, I will say this. Give it time, have patience. Don't expect her to pull through straight away," he warned, placing a gloved hand on my wiry arm, which now fell strained and painful.
"Are you her boyfriend? Brother...?" A young, female paramedic asked me in a sweet voice.
"I, err, I'm-I'm..." My voice trailed off and a tear forced its way from my eye down my cheek. "I'm nobody."
And with that, her body was taken onto the ambulance and driven away. The wail of sirens the only remembrance of the previous events, and even that too, soon went.