Slightly Demented Short Paragraph Thing?

Just a short paragraph thing I wrote since it's been a while since I've posted anything. It's a little dark, but I'm proud of it.

He ran to the street, his footsteps pounding heavily against the charcoal pave way. His arms were pumping hard and his shirt tail was whipping wildly behind him. With each step the distance increased between us. No matter how fast I ran, he was faster. I tried to cry out, but I stumbled and scraped my hands raw. That's when I heard the sound of the truck coming our way.

            Watch out, I cried. Come back. But he kept running. He didn't want to stop. I tried to get to my feet, the panic it my gut quickly rising. I only made it a few steps before I heard the gut wrenching snap of bones. The horrible squeal of eight tires trying to stop. The crunch of his body six seconds later when he landed forty feet from where he stood moments ago.

            ALEX! ALEX! I dropped to my knees, letting out a terrible, shrill screeching sound. I kept trying to call his name but I was choking on my own sobs. My hands were raking my hair and tearing at my skull. I rocked back and forth, covering myself with mud, dirt, tears, blood.

            I saw him right before that truck hit him. I will never be able to get the image of the cold fear in his eyes out of my head. He went pale, like a snowflake. His feet tried to stop, to turn back. But it was too late. His hands reached out in front of him, as if he could stop the truck. Then it was like he folded in on himself. Flying through the air he was as limp as a rag doll; as alive as a rag doll.

            I just sat there, rocking and sobbing, calling out a name to a guy who would never hear me. I don't know how long I was there, but I didn't think I could ever leave. Not really.