Thoughts are in Italics the rest of the story is in normal text.
I was just 10 minutes from home. Probably less. At the previous red light I got stopped at I rolled my windows down cause it was a nice day; bright and sunny and a nice 65+ degrees out. I cranked the country music up and sang along to every song they played.
Almost home. I can’t wait to get home and tell mom about being able to finish all my homework on time. I’m a procrastinator and didn’t procrastinate this time so that’s exciting. Oh I love this song!
Intersections coming up. Almost to the line, the light turned yellow on me. I’m at the line. I don’t have time to stop, I’ll have to go through it. A black car that’s in the left turn lane opposite me goes ahead and turns. There’s a white car behind it. No. Don’t do it. Please don’t do it.
He did it. I was half way through the intersection and the white car turned right in front of me. He didn’t even have time to start his turn. All I had time to do was close my eyes. He hit me head-on. All I heard was the crash of metal on metal. I didn’t feel a thing.
Screaming. Someone’s screaming. Wait. I’m screaming. Stop. Breathe. Don’t panic. Phone. I need to call mom. No. Call 911. 911 first. Then mom.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I was just in an accident”
“Okay, what’s your location?”
A kind woman helped me get out of my car, telling me that I needed to get out because of the fumes that my car was giving off. I listened to her, and got out, shaking. I look around while still on the phone. I went through a series of questions, all the while thinking “this is all my fault. If I had just stopped at the light. Mom and Dad are gonna kill me.”
The lady at 911 tells me that the police are on the way. Several people have gotten out to check on me and the other driver by now. They help us to the side of the road and have us sit down. The man that owns the gas station on the corner asks us if we need anything; water, something to eat, bandages, anything. I say no, but the man who was in the other car asks for a water. The man runs back to his store and returns. Three people who got out of their cars return to them and continue on their way. Three stay. As soon as I get off of the phone with 911, I call my mom. Come on, pick up, pick up. “You have reached the voicemail-” DAMN IT. I call again. “You have-” Come ON! I call one more time. “You have reached” I’m crying. I’m scared. The ONE time I actually need you to answer the phone-. I call my dad. Straight to voicemail. His phone must have died at work. Sirens are coming. They’re coming from the wrong way, though. Fire truck. First responders. Call Dawn. (Our neighbor). Ring. One. Ring. Two. “Hello?”
“Oh thank God. I was in an accident, I can’t get hold of mom or dad, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, hold on a second.”
“Hello?” It’s Jon.
“I was in an accident. I can’t get hold of mom or dad.”
“Okay, where are you?”
“Brownsville and C.H. James”
“I’m on my way.” we hang up.
Call dad one more time, see if he picks up.
Ring. One. “Hello?”
“Finally. I was in an accident, I’m okay but daddy I’m scared.”
“Where are you?”
“Brownsville and C.H. James”
“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone.”
I start crying. I’m so scared. I keep looking at the accident. How had this happened? Why?
One of the firemen come up to me and start asking me my name and where I go to school. I didn’t know it at the time, but they’re checking me for a concussion. I’m still crying, still on the phone with my dad, still trying to stay calm, still thinking it was all my fault. They keep asking me questions to keep me distracted. They ask for my ID, and I tell them it’s in my car, in my backpack. My dad comes up behind me and then to my side and just holds me. I start really crying and I can’t stop. I just hold on to him for dear life. Jon shows up. At this point I’m back to standing. Dad’s talking to someone. I go over to Jon and hug him. He asks me what happened. I tell him that someone turned in front of me. I say that if I had just stopped at the light. An officer comes over. My dad starts asking who’s fault it was, the officer tells us that it was the other person’s fault. They failed to yield to oncoming traffic. They were issued a ticket. They took the ambulance to the hospital. I refused to ride in the ambulance. I didn’t think I was hurt. I keep looking at my car, amazed at how I was okay. I get a second alone with my dad. “My engine is in my car. Daddy, the engine is IN my CAR.”
“I know baby. It’s okay. Your oil pan burst, by the way.”
The officer comes back. Gives us my license, insurance card, and a card with the case number on it. Says, “Well on the bright side, it looks like you’ll get to go car shopping!” as he’s walking away.
“I don’t want to go car shopping, I hate car shopping.” I tell my dad. I didn’t catch what my dad meant by his next sentence until later but he said, “Well at least it’s better than coffin shopping.”
My foot starts to hurt. I think I’ve got a bruise on it. Nearly everyone who had gotten out of their cars to help at this point has left. The man who owns the store has gone back to it. The only person left is a man named Erick. He says that he saw the whole thing, that the man who was driving the white car gunned it to make the light. He was just glad that I was okay. I hugged him and told him thank you for staying with me. He took pictures of the accident to send to my dad. He told us that he called his little girl’s school to take her to after school program because he needed to stay with me. He was a blessing to me that day.
I sit down on the ground because my foot is hurting. I start playing Casting Crown’s “Just be Held” because I need a distraction. Jon and dad sit next to me and hold me. They continue talking to Erick for a few minutes.
They tow the cars away. We’re told that we’re clear to leave. Daddy walks me to the car to leave. We come home. My foot’s still sore but I can walk so I think I’m fine. I get home and mom runs to me and hugs me and says that she’s sorry for not answering her phone, that it was upstairs and she couldn’t hear it. I’m home. I change into some different clothes. My mom tells me that we’re going to go to the chiropractor in about an hour. I sit there not thinking, not talking, just sitting in shock. My parents tell me I have a bruise on my forehead in the shape of the Nissan emblem. I laugh.
An hour passes. My foot still hurts. We go to the chiropractor. He takes x-rays. Says that the inflammation in my foot has already covered up my foot so he can’t see if it’s fractured or broken. We come home.
We go to the neighbors house to tell Jon and Dawn thank you. We stay for about an hour goofing off and joking. The pain in my foot has increased. As we’re getting to leave, my foot hurts too bad to walk. My dad helps me hobble to the car as I start crying from the pain. We get back to the house. They get me inside and it hurts so bad I’m screaming. My muscles are spasming down my leg and in my foot. It’s making my foot hurt worse. I can’t stand the pain anymore, I ask to go to the ER. On the way, I just keep praying for God to take the pain away. I keep reminding myself that there’s only a few minutes left until we get there. When we get there, they ask all of the basic questions; my name, my birthday, what hurts, etc. They take me back. The nurses are very nice and so is the doctor. They tell me that they’ll give me a pain killer and then they’ll take an x-ray. They both leave. I’m still crying because it hurts. My mom tries to distract me by singing nursery rhymes, “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and such. I turn on the Casting Crowns album Thrive. Specifically the song “Dream for You”. I start singing along with it. The nurse brings in the pain killers, I down the pill. She says that the x-ray will be taken shortly. Taking the x-ray was extremely painful because of the different positions that they have you move into. They turn off the lights because I’m starting to drift in and out of sleep. I start talking to my mom about how God saved me that day.
God truly did save me Thursday afternoon. If the other driver had turned a second later, I may not be here right now, just suffering from a bum foot, a few bruises, whiplash, and some sore muscles. God has a plan for me that did not include dying Thursday. His plan is for me to continue to live and spread His word.
“Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly.” The good thing about guardian angels is that they’re wicked fast and we can never out-drive their flying.
P.S. My dad is my hero. He also saved me that day. He was strong for me, he didn’t cry, never wavered, and even helped me joke around. Jon also came to my rescue as soon as he knew that something was wrong. I’m beyond lucky to have these two amazing men in my life and I am so grateful for them.
**IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE PICTURES OF THE ACCIDENT STOP HERE**
In the last picture on the left, my car is on the left and the other driver’s car is on the right.
