I wish I could erase all the flash backs from that day that kept me up for long hours of the night, that took my mind off of my classes, not able to concentrate. Even through all of that, I do not regret being the car right behind her; I truly believe God put me there for a reason. It may have been to comfort her, or maybe it was because he knew I am a strong girl and could handle such a situation. Many of my friends said to me, “Ya know, Liz, I am so proud of you. I honestly could not have done what you did, and I can not even imagine what you had to see.”

During school that Wednesday, I debated on what to do after school since my volleyball coach gave us the day off. I figured out I wanted to go uptown to get some ice cream for my best friend, Hannah, who had strep throat and did not attend school at all that week. As I left the school parking lot, I followed a little red Sunfire with a couple of stickers on the back of the window reading “High School Majorette” and underneath it said, “Grennay.” We stopped at the stop sign right in front of GM and waited until a few cars passed. It took awhile because at three o’clock that road is very busy. Just then Gabby, the girl driving the car in front of me, started to turn left. Right at that second everything seemed as if it were in slow motion. Brakes squealed from a big black SUV trying to stop, but the brakes locked up. The front left side of the SUV slammed right into the red sunfire’s driver’s side door, crashing Gabby straight into the four foot, grey cement wall. I pulled my truck over with my hands shaking like a vibrating phone, called my mom, and told her that Gabby was in a horrible accident; and I saw everything.

I ran as fast as I could over to her. All of her windows were completely shattered. I looked at her, tears pouring down my face like a waterfall. Without a doubt I thought she was dead. In my head I wondered, ‘Is she alive? Is she alive?’ There was blood everywhere, her body in a slumped back in her seat with her eyes closed. Gabby didn’t move a single muscle. I grabbed her left hand and saw that it was completely cut up from all the glass, and I cried, “Gabby, it’s Lizzy. Everything is going to be okay. Just be strong and stay with me. Gabby, can you hear me? If so you need to let me know you hear me. Gabby?” She didn’t say a word. Long streams of blood rushed down her face and over her long black hair. The shards of glass just lay everywhere in the car. I pleaded, “Listen to me. The paramedics are on their way, and everything will be perfectly okay!” Right at that moment a woman ran over to me and suggested, “Sweetheart, move away from the car,” as she placed her coat over top over the car so people could not see Gabby. I just kept talking to her, saying her name in hope that she would respond.

As the sounds of sirens blared closer and closer, I started to feel a little bit of relief. The paramedics jumped out of the ambulance and ordered, “Ma’am, please move over there,” as a police officer grabbed my arm and walked with me. Sitting in the grass sobbing, I just starred as the paramedics pumped bags of blood into her. I wondered, ‘Did I do everything I could? Could I have done more? I should have done more!’ They then began to cut the top of the car open, so they could finally get her out.

As soon as I started filling out a police report, a police officer came to me and formally noted, “She’s in the ambulance, and we want you to come talk to her since her mom is not here yet.” I went over, and right at that moment Laurie, Gabby’s mom, came running out of the police car tears rushing down her face. Both of us arrived at Gabby’s side and talked to her. After transferring more bags of blood, they finally put her in the helicopter, which they landed in the middle of the road. Laurie and I sat in the back of the ambulance, waiting for my mom to go grab the car. Gabby’s mom was devastated; I can’t imagine how she felt seeing her little girl look so helpless. My mom pulled up. We sat in the car and picked up Gabby’s two sisters and her brother.

That one-hour ride to Toledo felt like forever. No one knew if Gabby was going to be okay. After we finally arrived at the hospital, they immediately sent us to a small waiting room inside the emergency room. We all sat in the room just waiting to hear something. Gabby’s uncle came in along with her boyfriend and close friends. We all just needed to know she was going to be all right. The doctor finally walked in the room, looked around, and said, “Looking at everything that happened, she should not be alive. She is one lucky girl. She has a fractured skull, fractured neck, busted bladder, bruised lung, bruised and broken ribs, and her left side is very weak. She really should have had it far worse than she did.”

She would have a very long recovery, but everything was going to be okay, just like I told her. When I didn’t have sports, I visited her about every Wednesday and Sunday. We later found out that Gabby was actually pregnant and that the baby wasn’t hurt in the accident, which was a miracle. On one of my visits, Gabby asked me to come over to her, and she wanted to ask me something. She said, “Lizzy, will you be Keagan’s Godmother?” I was so shocked, yet so happy and excited that she asked me, and of course, I said I would.

It amazed me the progress she was making every time went to see her. After being in the hospital for over a month, the doctors finally let her go home. She didn’t need a wheel chair; she didn’t need a walker, but she used her own two feet to start walking again.

I try to avoid going down the road where the accident happened. When I have to and I see that red mark on that cement wall, my heart drops into my stomach, and all those memories become fresh. God put me behind her for a reason, and I’m so thankful he did. Often during my time visiting with Gabby, her mom and dad would say, “You’re truly her guardian angel.” I don’t know if I am Gabby’s guardian angel, but because of the accident, my perspective on life has changed. I have learned to not take life for granted because life can change in the blink of an eye. Every day before I drive, I look at my visor that has a clip on it with an angel that states, “Guardian angel light my way, keep me safe everyday” and hope that my guardian angels look over me like they looked over Gabby that day.