Points of view:Crash

First Person
I awoke with a sheering pain in my head. Glass. Smoke and dust thickened the air around me, making my lungs cry out for air. My ears were ringing and my memories were spinning around inside. Rosalie? Where is Rosalie? Where is my wife? I looked to my right where she had been smiling only moments before as she played with the baby in the back seat. She wasn’t there. Cries reached my popping eardrums from the back seat. Tyler. I reached back to check on my son, relieved to see his tears streaking threw only the dirt on his face, and not threw blood. Where is Rosalie?
“Shh Tyler, it’s ok. Everything’s ok, daddy’s here.” I breathed to him, trying to calm his racing heart.
I crawled into the back, wincing at every movement, every waking pinch of the previously contracted muscle in my body. I released my son from his savior in his imprisonment, pulling him close to my chest, checking over every inch of his tiny body. More and more sounds began to impose themselves into my consciousness. Sirens. Women screaming. My son’s crying, the banging on the windows by firemen, telling me not to move, the screech of shredding metal as the jaws of life tried to free the door from its hinge.
I looked around again for Rosalie as the memory of the last 420 seconds began to flash in front of my eyes as tears began to blind me.
Her smiling. Tyler laughing as his mother took off her seat belt to reach back and tickle him. The Semi in the next lane over. My wife, so beautiful, smiling at me. Her waved blonde hair dancing around her face, blown gently by the air conditioner on this hot Arizona morning. She’s so beautiful. My wife.
The screeching of tires. The horn of the semi, loud as a train engine as a car turned ever so sharply in front of it. The cracking of axles as the semi turned to avoid the blue van. Screeching. Breaks smoking beneath us, reaching for Rosalie as she reached for Tyler. Jerking the wheel away from the truck. The guardrail. Twisting metal, Sparks,
Crash Crash Crash. Glass shattering, screaming. My wife, falling. The windshield shatters and my wife is gone, over the embankment. Bam, head against the steering wheel then back against the window. Shatter. Glass. Dust. Smoke. Cries, Darkness.
Smoke, sheering pain in my head. Glass.

Third-person limited omniscient
It was any other day for Susana as she made her way to her hated job of a sales manager, just off the highway. She was already late as she put on her eyeliner in her van, looking in the dingy mirror as she sped past cars.
“Shit, come on already! The speed limits 75 jackass!”
She passed the tan car in front of her, she couldn’t be late for work again. This was her last chance and everything depended on it. Her family needed this money, especially after her husband got laid off from Safeway.
Now foundation. She applied it in quick circular motions to her cheekbones to hide the sunspots and wrinkles. As Susana speed past another car she spotted the perfect spot, an emply lane, no cars, her get away. Her freedom.
Susana smiled and jerked the wheel over to the empty lane. “Finally” she thought as she moved over, failing to see the semi inches from her bumper. A loud honk awoke her from her delusion of her wrinkles in the mirror.
“Shit!” she speed up just as her heart did. “Where the hell did you come from”? Fucking truck! Shit!” Her anger boiled up inside her as she just drove faster away, not even checking in her mirror a second time to see the horrific crash that had developed behind her, because of her, nor did the sound of twisting metal catch her attention as she turned up her music and made her way to her exit.

Third-person objective
Rosalie smiled at her son in the back seat, still new to the mothering thing but loving every minute of it. She reached back and tickled his stomach, making him laugh and coo. Her husband smiled in the driver’s seat as he carefully weaved their tan car through Sunday morning traffic. The air conditioner was on and the sun was already beating down on the Arizona ground, but it was a nice day, perfect for taking the one year old to the zoo. As they drove they were relieved when their little car pulled up beside a semi, just for a bit, so that the shade cooled the car and blocked out the glare of the sun.
“Ready for the zoo Ty Ty?” smiled the mother as she tickled her son again, laughing as his smile stretched across his chubby cheeks. The husband chuckled at the sound of his sons laugh and his wife’s giggle, watching the road carefully, particularly a blue van that had been weaving in and out of traffic since they got on, and good thing too as the van swerved around them.
“She’s doing her makeup. What a freaking idiot. She’s driving like a drunk.” Said Rosalie as she looked at her husband, an annoyed look on her face until she looked back at Tyler and smiled. “Never drive like that, ok baby?” She smiled as she tickled him again.
Just then the blue van cut off the cooling semi beside them, making it slam on its breaks and swerve into incoming traffic, including the couples little tan car.
The husband acted quickly as he hit the brakes and reached his arm out to protect his wife as the little car swerved off behind the semi, avoiding hitting it.
The guardrail came up quickly as the husband tried to swerve again to miss it, but with no luck. A loud crash echoed through the morning as the tan car hit the rail hard with the left front side first then pulling hard, hitting it head on with great force. The husband kept his arm out to stop his wife from the windshield but his head found it first and his arm fell limp as his wife’s body was launched out of the front windshield, over the hood, over the rail, and down the embankment, lifeless. The boy cried in the backseat, safe from harm, saved by his car seat as he waited for his father to wake up from his head trauma, his screams fell on deaf ears for two minutes before his father reached back for him.