Not brave

A bad day here in rainy italy. A typical italian day in this strange
summer that hasn't seen much sun yet. I was walking to lunch with
coworkers, my hung-over taste buds starting to awaken at the thought
of some gnochetti, when I heard a !crack! from down the street and I looked
up to see a semi truck had hit a motorcycle. The motorcycle exploded off the
front of the truck and I didn't see where the rider went.

We stood in shock for a second, and since the accident was only about 100 meters
away I could see that the people getting out of the truck and a couple of cars were
still in shock as well. No one was rushing to the motorcyclist. I started to walk towards
the accident thinking that if no one else was going to help then I should, I had the weirdest
thoughts because I couldn't see anyone hurt, was the guy unhurt and walking around,
or was there no rider and just an empty motorcycle was crushed?

As I got closer I could see the victim. And I was glad to see that people were starting
first aid and speaking with the emergency operators. My italian isn't normally good enough
to offer first aid advice but I could not think of a single word in italian to say. I was so relieved
that I didn't have to try and give first aid that I felt nothing but guilt, all the first aid classes
and buddy care classes coming to nought. Relief and the knowledge that I would probably
be sick if I stayed made me back away then walk back to my coworkers trying to control the
shaking in my hands.