Fixing my life is not possible...

[Soul Sam]

CRASH! Drip. Drip. Drip. The acrid smell of burning fuel filled the air, along with the thick, chocking black smoke arising from the mangled, torn up locomotive, resting with her front bogie on the remainder of the building, bricks and rubbles showering down on the thick, metal casing of the rail bound stallion. Drip…Drip…WOOSH! The diesel fuel ignited with a loud whoosh and a hiss, cracking away, spitting embers into the air. “Help! HELP!” A scream came from within the second coach, the only noise in that carriage. The rest of the occupants, deathly silent. “Please! PLEASE!” The flames drew closer by the second, and the smoke started to enter his lungs. Swallowing, he pulls himself free from his trap, a crack sounding out. Tumbling from the door, he landed hard on his back, a weak, feeble “No…” escaping his lips as he blacked out, spinal cord broken, legs unable to be felt..


I figured it could focus around him recovering and working to regain his life, helped by his best friend.

OR

Another person, killed in the accident to protect him is brought back as an angel, to look after and protect him?

[She]

Interested. PM me?

[Soul Sam]

Bump.