The Car Wreck

I was in an accident. On my way home from volunteering at the local animal shelter, I turned my left blinker on, following other cars through the green arrow when suddenly there was a huge impact. I couldn't see properly, and my face hurt. I kept blinking trying to understand what was going on. There was a big white balloon on my steering wheel. I poked it, and looked up to see the lights of cross traffic pouring in at me. I started to panic, taking huge hysteric breaths that are the precursor to my full blown anxiety attacks. I realized I couldn't see and started looking for my glasses, when white smoke started pouring out of my dash. Nothing calms you down like imminent smoke inhalation. I fumbled the door and it would only open a crack. I hesitated before shoving and forcing it open, figuring a little more damage couldn't hurt it much. There was a crunch as it swung open all the way.

The collision had pushed my car almost to the corner of the intersection and I stumbled toward it and sat down, staring out into traffic, dimly looking across to where my car was smashed. A car was inching past my wrecked Yaris in a right turn and a carful of blurry people asked over and over if I was okay. Still in shock, shaking, I just nodded at them until they kept driving.

 A man came around the corner and leaned over me. His features resolved into a slim fortyish man with a trim red goatee. "Are you okay?" Nod. "What's your name?" I opened my mouth to answer and my jaw was shaking so badly that I shut it again and tried to collect myself before I croaked my name at him. He told me his and sat down with me. "What day is it?" "The... Eighth? I think it's the eighth." "Close enough. You dizzy at all?" Head shake. He continued to ask me questions while I stared at my smoking car. When a fire truck pulled up and blocked off the wreck he said he was gonna take off. I managed to focus my eyes and thank him for sitting with me, and realized his name had made no impression, which I felt momentarily guilty about.

Firemen poured out of the truck, and they blocked off the road. I saw the other driver for the first time. He was an older man, a handicapped sticker hanging from his rearview mirror. He had a bag of food that he was casually munching. More people came up and asked if I was okay, if I was hurt. I said no, and asked for help finding my glasses. They brought a flashlight over and helped me look. I found them unbroken much to my relief. I called Taylor, trying to keep my voice steady, "I was just in a car crash." "Do you need me to come get you?" "No, you have class, you're fine- oh. Except I guess I don't know how I'm getting home." "So I'm coming to get you." "Yeah, sorry, thank you."

The fireman who helped me look for my glasses said I should start taking anything I needed  out of the car. I thought on what was in my car and grabbed my old bag, and shoved important papers in. I looked up at the helpful fireman and said, "This is gonna look really weird." He said it was fine. I pulled my cutlass from the trunk and put it on the roof. "Cool! Why...?" "It was a gift. And a friend had a scavenger hunt at one point and needed a picture of a sword and I just keep forgetting to take it out." I kept pulling stuff out and he sidled closer to my sword before asking he could see it. So a couple firemen came over and looked at my cutlass.

The cops had arrived and started taking my information. I saw the other driver speaking to the second cop and heard him mumble something to which the cop said, "That would've meant you had a red light. Is that what happened?" And he quickly waved his hands and said no, no.

Firemen came up and offered me a coat because I was shaking so hard and I said no thank you, I'm not cold, I'm just shaking. They nodded. They asked if I was coming home from work, and I said no, I was just volunteering at the animal shelter. The other driver started getting much stiffer responses and treatment. I asked someone if actually, on second though, could I have a wrap for my wrist, because it was starting to hurt. Moments later they'd taped on a cold pack.

The firemen began to disperse and told me they hoped my night would improve. I went and stood on the curb, and the man who hit me came and stood nearby. He was still casually munching some indeterminate food. I got a frantic text from my mom telling me to call her and wondered about her magical ability to know when I'm in danger.

The man said, "Well that sucked." I didn't trust myself to look at him without screaming at him for hitting me. I was too much in shock to be that mad yet but I felt a dull outrage that he was claiming his light had been green. He threw his food into the bushes. (I tell a lie, it's Arizona, he threw it into the sand where a few cacti were slouching, there were no bushes present).

I called up my mom and reassured her I was okay. It would've been more convincing if I didn't sound on the verge of tears. I overheard the cop ask my assailant if he had a ride coming and the man didn't have a phone. I told my mom I had to go and wordlessly handed him mine. His fingers were gnarled and crooked, some looked permanently broken and I wondered if that's why his car had a handicapped tag.

A tow truck had arrived and I solemnly watched them start to hook a winch on the dilapidated front end of my brave little car. At which point my car began to scream. And by scream I mean honk. And by honk I mean shriek because it is so much louder when there is no hood to contain it. The tow truck man and one of the officers hurriedly looked for tools to cut the horn. I thought, this is the swansong of my car, the final shout of defiance it would have in this world. They cut the cord, and it fell silent.

Someone said hey off along the sidewalk but my eardrums felt burst and I didn't notice until a second louder hey followed. I turned and Taylor engulfed me in a hug. We stood there for a bit, just savoring the fact that I was alive and mostly unharmed and my composure started melting away. We separated and watched as they began to drag my car up the tow ramp. The passenger wheel bowed outward and didn't turn at all, making it look like a sad, melty cartoon version of a car who's too exhausted to continue.

The cop said I was free to go, so we left. Taylor told me she'd called my mom, and her mom. Once she collected me she called both moms again, saying I was fine, just bruised, but fine. A joke about my airbag not exploding went over well with her mom, but made mine cry. She apologized profusely.

I'm ridiculously lucky that I wasn't more injured, but because the man is claiming he had a green light as well, it's tied up with insurance at the moment, and I'm set up with a rental car.