Unloved - Let us rewrite the stars ||englisch||

38.

"They can't do that! Damn it, Pierre, why didn't you tell me before?" I grumbled. RedBull had replaced Pierre. Just like that. Yes, okay, I admit he had accidents, many and expensive ones. But what could he do about it if they build the perfect car for Max but not for Pierre? It didn't suit his driving style at all. At least that's what I thought I saw. But well, now it was done. I couldn't change it any more anyway. "At least I'm not completely out. I've been given another chance. And what did Anthoine say? Prove them wrong." I nodded. "Then show them you can do more." 

Nervously, I stood at the pit wall. Anthoine's team was kind enough to let me watch the race from there. I was a bit nervous because we were in Belgium. And Spa was my favourite track. At least one of them. The start had gone well. Suddenly I saw a car spinning and losing some parts. Two cars followed right behind. I recognised the one driver as Anthoine. They both tried to avoid the wreckage, with Anthoine taking much less speed than the other. His front wing hit the rear tyre of the car in front of him and broke off immediately. It was clear that Anthoine could not steer his car in any other direction. He slid into the pile of tyres and, after a turn, stopped abruptly and was now perpendicular to the direction of travel. I had been holding my breath, feeling it tighten in my chest. "Get out, get out, get out," I whispered. However, barely a second later I saw the next driver appear. I saw how this one also caught the debris and the front wing also broke away. But this one was pushed under the car. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see what was happening now. And then I heard it. A bang, screams. I suddenly opened my eyes again and looked at the monitors, but immediately regretted it. Anthoine's car hit the barrier a second time, was thrown back onto the track and was torn in two. I ripped my headphones off my head, jumped up and ran into the paddock, looking for Pierre. This I found immediately. "You saw it, didn't you?", I asked, sobbing. Pierre nodded wordlessly. "He's alive, right? He survived that, right?", I asked my best friend in a panic. "I don't know." "He has to, Pierre! He did!" Pierre just hugged me, "I hope so too. More than anything Hailey. And he will have it." I nodded and clutched tighter into his t-shirt. "Now it's wait and see, yeah?" Again I nodded and followed him wherever he was about to go. 

We ran up the driveway to the hospital, where we could already see Pierre's family standing. I slowed my steps when I saw them all crying. With tears in my eyes, I started shaking my head, slapping my hand over my mouth. Feeling something break inside me, a feeling already so familiar, I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at Pierre for help. "He's all right, isn't he?", I asked quietly, but received no answer. No, no, no. "You guys are just kidding. I can just go and see him in a minute and have a normal conversation with him. I can do that, can't I?" "I'm sorry," Pierre's mum sobbed. "No. You can't be." "Hailey," I heard Pierre say softly, however his voice was trembling. I turned my gaze to him. He too had tears in his eyes. "Pierre, he.... Anthoine..." Silently he pulled me to him again, holding me because otherwise I would probably have collapsed. "I still want to say goodbye to him." I wriggled out of Pierre's arms again and ran into the hospital. I asked a nurse if I could still say goodbye to my best friend, who only told me the room number and floor, with the words I should hurry. In the room I met his parents and his girlfriend. They were crying. Understandably so. I was crying myself. "Hi," I sobbed. "It's Hailey," I then introduced myself brokenly. I had never met his parents, even though Anthoine had wanted me to. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, playing awkwardly with my hands. I didn't dare look at the boy yet, couldn't bring myself to. "It's not your fault. But thank you." I nodded curtly at his friend. There was no need to introduce myself. I didn't need to know their names to know what pain they were in. I squinted my eyes and turned my head towards the bed. Only then did I open them again and immediately felt the next pain. A painful pulling. I couldn't do this now. I wanted to say goodbye, yes. But I couldn't. I didn't want to admit it. Couldn't. The next steps, movements were so tedious that I actually wanted to give it up. But still. I had to do it. Gently I kissed him on the forehead. A promise.

I clutched the pillow convulsively, crying like I hadn't in a long time. I hadn't done it. I wanted to say so much, so damn much, and I didn't. Solely, I had given him a simple kiss on the forehead and then fled. Had stormed out of the room, run through the bare corridors and collapsed outside the doors of the hospital. Pierre had come to meet me and I will never, never be able to forget that pain in his eyes. Now I sat in Cara's room while she held me and I snotted all over her pillow. "Shhh, it's fine," she whispered, rocking me gently back and forth. "Nothing's going to be alright! He's dead Cara! Nothing's going to be alright..." In response, she simply fell silent. A heavy, painful silence.

"Aren't you going to go and see Lando?" I nodded and disengaged myself from the pillow. My fingers had been cramping. Ponderously, almost mechanically, I got up and stalked up to my room. Immediately Lando jumped up and came rushing to me. He hugged me tightly while I clung to him tightly. "It hurts so much, Lando. So painful," I sobbed over and over, unable to calm myself. Cried louder and louder and more and more. Shrieked shrilly. Screamed the pain out of my soul that threatened to crush me. Sank to the floor, lingered there. Soaked Lando's shirt. Screeched again. The pain, too unbearable not to give it air. The only thing Lando could do was hold me and I could feel his pain at not being able to help me. I could see how it was tearing him apart to see me suffering like this. I can't imagine how Julie must feel. Again and again Lando's soothing words did nothing to calm me down. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore. Until the crying hurt so much that I could no longer breathe. Until I almost choked on my tears.