(Third Person's POV)
Two men stood over a wrecked convertible while one was trying to open the door.
Someone had called 911 and had reported an accident.
"It's a young woman." The one trying to open the door called out to his colleagues.
"Okay! Do you think she's still with us?"
"Doesn't look like it, but even if she is, if you just stand there like zombies, she won't be anymore!" He snapped.
That pulled them out of whatever trans they were in.
It took them two minutes of struggling to finally break the window and open the door from within.
"There's a pulse!" One yelled excitedly. "I can barely feel it, but it's there."
His colleagues helped him carry the unconscious woman to their truck, while two went back to the car.
"There are drugs everywhere. Do you think she overdosed?"
"It looks like it. All these rich brats!"
"Come on, it's not her fault you're poorer than a church rat, man." His friend teased him and started to call for a tow truck.
