Blizzard

The snow seemed to mock me, throwing itself into my sweating face as I ran blindly from the house to my car. The neighbourhood was a blaze of cold white, the gardens a strange mixture of green and cold grey. A cat meowed angrily nearby, presumably cursing the large white flakes.
'I know how you feel' I thought bitterly, slamming the door of my silver-gone-white Clio closed, where the warmth of the car quickly surged around me.
Engine started, I pulled away slowly, permitting my body to finally relax following the run that had been somewhat more exciting than normal.
To begin with there was of course the snow and, when one is running, it is amazing how interesting the weather suddenly becomes. Shaun and myself had started the run around 8pm, just as the very last slivers of sun crouched behind the hills in the distance. Soon after the clouds came and finally the snow to add to what was already freezing temperatures.
Initially it started as nothing more noticeable than some sort of bright drizzle however by the time we passed Asda shopping centre it had changed somewhat drastically.
Instead of lazily collapsing on and around us the snow had apparently become enraged for some unknown discrepancy, and proceeded to berate the two of us with every ounce of strength the strong gusts could give it. It would blind us and already uncoordinated from the toll of Shaun's quick jog, I would stumble about the pavement, desperately trying to ignore the burning pain in my upper shoulder and tightness resolutely clutching my chest.
As we rounded a corner past two teenage girls - one of whom laughed to her friend and shouted "Mmm, not bad at all!" - we came into sight of the final Hill. I say Hill as such because it was just that - only much much more. Perhaps 300m, the straight piece of road was somehow classified as safe despite the sheer angle. It was here that cars had nightmares of coming down or going up on an icy morning. It was here that Shaun would make us sprint the final part of the run.
"Right, lets go." He muttered and began to pass me, his longer stride (and, I can't deny, greater fitness) leaving me behind quickly in a blurring mess of white.
"I... hate you..." I wheezed, pushing myself  with every ounce of strength I could muster from my greatly depleted energy. He knew I couldn't stand someone passing me, and so hoping desperately I wasn't about to trip over some impossibly obvious obstruction, began to catch up.
It was then I heard the barking.
From somewhere behind me and to the right the sounds of the animal approached rapidly, yapping loudly as I tried to ignore it. Then a second one, a much angrier, larger sounding dog.
My heart roaring horrendously in my ears, I sped up - praying Shaun wouldn't catch on to my rather socially impeding fear of the four-legged creatures. Cynophobia I had once heard it named.
By some miracle I caught Shaun perhaps three quarters of the way up the slope and for the briefest of moments I dreamt of beating him. Unfortunately the dogs decided they no longer wished to assault me as such and I heard them break away. So too then, did my intense burst of adrenaline and as a result - my lead.
I came to a sweating gasping stop, bent double, then straight to help catch my breath, and then again, double. The snow made the neighbourhood built on this gravitational miracle hazy and the normally harsh glow of orange street lamps seem far away and insignificant.
"Fancy going for another one?" Shaun asked, and then laughed at my expression.
Back in my car and heading for home I was shaken from my wearied reflections by a sudden movement the car made that I was quite sure I had nothing to do with. A warm burst of fear flared through me as the back of the car slid horrifically gently wide.
Trying to regain control I turned the steering - wheel right to counter it and silently offered up a prayer of thanks when it came back under control. Scared and for some reason I couldn't quite understand I turned off the main road onto the country one that would take me the further 4 and a half miles to my house.
Ensuring my speed was safely at the 25mph mark I marvelled at the sheer ferocity of the blizzard for late spring.
'Yup, there's no problem with global warming' I thought, and chuckled in quiet giddiness.
It was getting harder and harder to see, the full beam only resulting in more snow flakes being visible to disorientate me, and it was now completely dark. Concentrating on the short black piece of tar the dipped lights revealed, I could feel my heart again begin to race.
A short time later something caught my attention in the wing mirror. Headlights. Surprised it was driving as fast as it apparently was I strained to see if the car was familiar. Amazingly, it had gained the half-mile separating us in just a few seconds, and it was at this point alarm bells began to clang in my head.
"Bloody madman driving at that speed on night like..." I muttered but then something horrendous began to happen just as we approached the end of a long straight - it began to overtake.
"What in God's name is he doing?!" I could feel sweat slowly break out again on my brow, and the familiar feeling of having a near miss car accident washed over me - only in reverse. (No pun intended). As it pulled out into the right hand side of the road I could see in my mind the car slide into mine and send us both into the ditch that was on either side of the road. If a car came round the corner just ahead of us with dipped lights I realised we wouldn't see it until it was too late.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly with moist palms I slowed further again, at this point noticing the car was a slick sports one with blacked out windows.
My mind roared in anger and disgust. Some young speed junkie was probably flying through the blizzard to impress someone and willing to risk some stranger's life in the process.
Just as it was three quarters of the way past it happened.
A loud CLUNK noise reverberated through the sounds of the howling wind and roaring engines, and the sleek blue sports car simply flipped into the air. I simply stopped breathing as I watched in a horrified awe as it spun perhaps 15 feet in the air and landed on its side on the road where it flipped again and rolled twice, three, four times in an absolute and exact meaning of the word blur, into the grass bank at the corner where it then struck a corner sign and finally lay still.
Somehow I had managed not to simply swerve into the ditch myself, away from the rolling car (more likely than not shock, I have since realised) but applied the brakes gently enough it didn't even slide.
As both cars came to a stop - one much more peacefully - I sat there for a full 10 seconds, simply staring at the upturned underside of a Peugeot 306. Ten seconds in those circumstances feels like a deathly long time.
To this day I hate myself for that delay. Perhaps, as unlikely as my common logic told me it was, I could have saved the man's life. It is a most surreal notion to be the only one to witness a severe accident. You sit and look and wait and wonder.
Something finally clicked however, that there had been someone in that car and that more likely than not were now severely injured. Severely injured was the worst-case scenario I permitted my brain to form.
Hitting the hazard lights indicator I threw open my door not even bothering to turn off the engine and sprinted wildly across the space of 10metres to the other car, where faint sparks were coming from.
The ground was slippery underfoot and I fell awkwardly once, before scrambling forwards again. As i got closer I could see the damage from the passenger side, which appeared empty. The window had shattered to pieces and, climbing down perhaps a foot into the grass bank I looked inside the front passenger window. Having feared seeing up to five bodies strewn everywhere it was something of a relief to see that there was only one man. A relief that was until his injuries became apparent.
Perhaps in his late twenties with short cut black hair, the man was unconscious. There was a deep gash running from his eye, which was bleeding disturbingly, right the way down his face to the edge of a clean-shaven jaw. He was being held upside down by his seatbelt and I was loathe to undo it incase he had other unseen injuries.
My mind a wild disorientated mess, I shouted to him.
"Hello? Sir, you've been in an accident! Hey!" My voice was shaking and wild. Beneath the roar of the storm it seemed pathetic.
Suddenly it occurred to me I still hadn't called for an ambulance and the realisation nearly brought me to tears.
"God, oh God..." I moaned, trying desperately to dial in 999.
When the voice of a calm clear spoken woman, not unlike that of an air hostess, answered I forced myself to breath normally.
"Hi,