| Whick-whick, whick-whick. Tuesday morning. It's raining heavily, but not enough to make the commute unbearable. I can't see the sun on the horizon yet, but I expect that now that summer is gone. Droplets refract light bouncing from the damp pavement and smear my windshield with fragments of colour. Whick-whick. Am I going to be late? I shouldn't be since I made the arrow on 5. I glance down to make sure. Red lights. They keep coming. I'm not stopping. I'm silently gliding in slow motion. Oh no. Will the airbags go off? Black. What time is it? I can't remember. The dash still glows green, but the symbols don't make sense. The thermometer isn't working. I wonder how cold it is outside. Where's my cell phone? God damnit. Where is my cell phone. Of course. The one time I need it. I don't think I'm hurt. Where's the other car? I see it over my crumpled hood up ahead a ways. It's big, maybe a Cherokee or Explorer... It must be pulling over. I should pull over. I can't. Why can't I shift gears? Oh my God, my parents are going to kill me. I need to call home. Why is the car driving away? What is it doing? I need a cell phone, now. God, my name's written in dry-erase marker on my window. Awesome. I wonder how fast word will spread. Why isn't anyone stopping? I flag a car down. They pull over. I get out. Oh, God. I... this is bad. They can't fix this. Is the engine off? Metallic purple and green and other dinge paint a morbid, chaotic picture on the road. It would be almost pretty in other circumstances. The fluids snake around what's left of my car and flow along the gutter. It smells. I hope this doesn't hurt the foliage. Why aren't you picking up, Mom? I dial a third time. Yes, I feel okay. No, I can't drive it... yes, I'm sure. The other car isn't here. No, they just drove away! I don't know! I hydroplaned. Yes, it's still raining. No, I'm sitting in the back of a very nice person's van. I dont want to talk to Dad! No, I wasn't on my cell phone. I don't know how fast I was going, Dad! I was driving just as fast as everyone else... yes, there was traffic. No, I wasn't... maybe 30? The speed limit is 45. I can't move it. It's munched, Dad... the hood... Can you come get me? He says he'll call me back. It's still raining. I wait. It is very surreal watching yourself careen into another car. I'm sure it took only four or five seconds, but I felt as if I had my foot on the break for five times that long. Is this karma? Is this God? Am I supposed to look at this incident and realise how lucky I am? If I would have been going a little faster, break a little later... Is Someone watching out for me? Or is that what I'm supposed to think? I'll finish this later. |
