The Dark Tunnel of Grief

I was sitting on the steps, inside our home, just a few feet away from the door when I heard a knock.  I jumped up swung open the door, and yelled, “Where is she?” “It’s my daughter, Dawn Marie. Take me to her. Take me now!”  The look on their faces, I will not forget.  The look was blank; their eyes were like three lost puppy dogs just begging me for mercy.  The women in the middle spoke first.  She said, “We can’t.  I’m sorry. May we come in?”  I yelled back, “Take me to her now! I can handle it; take me!”  Again she replied, “We can’t; may we come in?”  I proceeded to let them in.  The women in the middle who was the coroner said, “There has been a terrible accident involving your daughter and her friend. Please mam, please sit.”  She noticed I was pregnant and she did not want me to pass out or fall.  The coroner continued to tell us as much as she could about the accident.  I wanted proof that this was really my daughter. Without showing me her body, how could she prove it?  She handed me a picture and made sure she prepared me for what I would see.  The picture was my baby! Her face was a little swollen and her front tooth chipped but it was my Dawn Marie.  The coroner explained that the girls had been killed instantly and no opportunity was possible to transport them to a hospital.  They were both pronounced dead at the scene.  “They did not feel pain as they were killed on impact,” she said.  I still do not understand how someone can tell you that no pain was felt when they were not the ones involved.  I know that our bodies shut down prior to impact; I guess that is what they were trying to tell me.