The bus accident-

As I was biking in the mountains of Honduras I came upon an 18 year old boy lying on the side of the road. I have seen many drunk people laying on the side of the road, but this was different. As I biked up I could see that something was very wrong; he was twitching and rolling around in the grass and he had blood coming out from so many places of his body. I was the first to arrive by the boy’s side, but as I threw down my bike and started to help him, I could see some men jumping off a bus and running toward him. They started yelling at him and calling him crazy. His shoes, bag, hat and everything that he was carrying were spread all over the place within a 20 foot radius. I had never seen anything like it; a bone was sticking out of his arm and blood running down his head and from his mouth. There was nothing I could do, I stood by his side and watched him shake. The boy walked in front of a bus and it plowed right over him leaving him a big ball of bleeding flesh. The bus luckily stopped and turned around and the men threw him in the back of the bus on the dirty floor, and then it was quiet again like nothing had happened. Only the blood and dirt where the boy had laid was left. I do not know if he died, I cannot see how he could have lived. I biked on in silence, one of the greatest silences that I have felt in the whole trip. Just like that before my eyes life and death flashes and I biked on in silence.