"The Silent Crash: A Night of Fate"

The rain came down in sheets, hammering against the windshield like a thousand tiny fists. Arun squinted through the thick fog, his hands gripping the wheel as he maneuvered the winding mountain road. The narrow path twisted like a serpent, the metal guardrails barely visible through the downpour.

It was well past midnight, and exhaustion clung to him like a heavy coat. His body ached from the long business trip, and all he wanted was to be home, curled up next to his wife, sipping warm tea. The GPS had directed him through this shortcut, but now he regretted taking it. The isolation of the road unnerved him.

The only sounds were the rhythmic sweep of the wipers and the occasional crackle of thunder. His phone buzzed on the dashboard. A message from Meera, his wife. Probably another reminder to drive safely. He sighed, reaching for the phone, his eyes flicking away from the road for just a second.

That was all it took.

A shadow darted across the road—dark, fast, sudden. Was it an animal? A person? Arun didn't have time to think. Instinct took over. His foot slammed on the brakes, his hands jerking the wheel hard to the left.

The tires screeched in protest, struggling against the slick asphalt. But there was no grip, no control. The car spun wildly, skidding straight toward the guardrail. The world tilted.

Then, the impact.

The metal barrier crumpled like paper as the sedan crashed through it, plunging over the edge. Gravity yanked Arun downwards as the car tumbled into the abyss, rolling violently down the steep, rocky slope. Glass shattered. Metal twisted. His seatbelt bit into his chest as he was flung forward, his head smashing against the side window. Stars exploded in his vision.

Then—silence.

For a moment, everything was still. The rain continued to fall, but the world around him felt frozen. The car had landed at an awkward angle, its nose buried into the muddy ground between broken trees and scattered debris. Smoke curled from the crumpled hood. The dashboard flickered weakly before shutting down completely.

Pain screamed through his body. His ribs felt like they were on fire. Blood trickled from a deep gash on his forehead, dripping onto his shirt. He tried to move, but his limbs were sluggish, his head heavy.

Panic set in.

His phone. He had to find his phone. His fingers fumbled around the wreckage until they found the cold, cracked screen on the floor. He pressed the power button, but it was dead.

A deep sense of dread settled in his gut. He was trapped, injured, and alone.

Then, a noise.

A rustling sound, barely audible over the rain. It came from somewhere in the darkness beyond the broken trees. His breath hitched. Was it an animal? Or—was someone there?

His eyes darted frantically through the foggy gloom, searching for movement. The shadows seemed to shift and pulse, playing tricks on his mind. He heard the noise again, closer this time.

Fear clawed at his chest.

"Hello?" he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

No answer. Just the rain and the eerie rustling.

Then, faint lights. Flashlights. A voice—distant but urgent.

"Over here! We found him!"

Relief flooded through Arun as figures emerged from the darkness. Rescuers, dressed in reflective jackets, hurried toward the wreckage. Strong hands pulled at the twisted door, prying it open. A paramedic leaned in, shining a light in his eyes.

"Sir, can you hear me?"

He nodded weakly.

"You’re going to be okay. Just stay with us."

The next few moments blurred together. He felt himself being lifted onto a stretcher, the cold air biting into his skin as the paramedics worked quickly. His vision swam, darkness creeping in at the edges.

The last thing he saw before slipping into unconsciousness was the beam of a flashlight reflecting off the shattered windshield.

When he woke up, the world was soft and white. The steady beep of machines filled the air. His body ached, but he was alive.

A warm hand held his own. He turned his head slowly, meeting Meera’s tear-filled eyes.

"You scared me," she whispered.

Arun managed a weak smile. "Guess I owe you an apology."

She shook her head. "Just promise me… no more phones while driving."

He squeezed her hand, a silent vow.

Some lessons come at a price. But fate had given him a second chance, and he wasn't going to waste it