Cold November Nights

On a cold night in November, I was getting off work around nine o’clock. I texted my family asking for one of them to pick me up. I was still getting my hours in before my big driver’s test in a couple of weeks. My mom’s boyfriend, John, pulled up in his black Ford Escape and rolled down the window before I could get inside. He had asked if I wanted to drive home. I said sure, and he hopped out of the driver’s seat. I made sure to strap myself in first. I adjusted the seat so I could reach the petals and made the seat just a hair higher. I moved all the mirrors to the best angle I could get to before putting the car in to drive. As we drove, the radio played 90’s rap, and John was humming along. He asked me how my shift went and said that my mom was making dinner at home. I pulled up to a stop sign, halted, and carried on. Pulling up to a red light on Snelling Avenue in the left lane, I tapped my fingers on the wheel mentally taking note of the car in front of me. A Silver Honda SUV. The light changed to yield to oncoming traffic or a yellow blinking arrow. The Honda rolled forward and went. Across the intersection was a line of cars all turning left. I told John I couldn’t see around them, that I couldn’t tell if a car was coming. He told me that I was in the clear. I lightly pressed on the gas. As I went, I turned my head ever so slightly. Two bright headlights. John screamed to stop. And they hit us with the loudest crackling smack I have ever heard. Their car ricocheted off of ours. Then everything was in slow motion and silent. I looked at the people in the small car. It seemed to be a group of college students who were returning to the dorms across the streets. I turned to John and he was just looking around. The door was bent in, and John was trying to force it open. A tow truck that happened to pass by us, saw the aftermath of the crash. The tow truck pulled over and a man got out of the cab. He walked over holding a metal bar which he used to force John’s door the rest of the way open. I sat in the driver’s seat, still, processing the sound and the force of the car. I looked at John, and he was on the phone with someone, assuming it was my mother. Red and Blue lights appeared mere minutes later. The tow truck driver came to the driver’s door and knocked on the window, motioning me to get out. I unbuckled my seat belt and slowly exited the vehicle. I walked around to the front of the car. Seeing the two cars with massive gashwes, and glass on the ground, I heard the crashing noise again. It replayed in my head again and again. I looked away and started towards the crosswalk. I had forgotten a coat and it was unbearably cold. My mom’s Jeep pulled up to the curb. She got out and ran to me. She was talking to me, but I had a hard time paying attention. I looked back to the cars again, hearing the crash again. At some point in the night, I ended up back at home. I don’t remember sleeping much that night, or the next. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the crash. My family would ask if I was doing okay, but I wasn’t sure. I felt so guilty, not only for John’s totaled car but for the student’s car as well. I had experienced a lot of scary things before, but this one was different, this one felt real. I refused to drive a car for weeks after that crash. I didn’t like riding in one either. I felt so destructive, that if I drove another car, or sat in another car, it would happen again. Over time, I was able to get out of that mindset and process that night. Both John and I could not see and thought it was clear. I did not crash the car on purpose. I was paying attention, not on my phone, or dazing off. I was perfectly awake, alert, and aware of my surroundings. I was lucky to have walked away, and so was everyone else. I know that I cannot change what has happened. Later that year, I did get my driver’s license and I passed with flying colors. The instructor scored me on the test and even complimented how careful and safe I was as a driver. Since then, I have worn my seatbelt in every car, never texted while driving, and never driven when I felt incapable of doing so. All my friends love to speed and drive recklessly, weaving between cars. But you can find me in the farthest right lane, usually going the speed limit exactly. That crashing noise still sounds in my head every so often and it still sends a chill down my back. I am ever so grateful that I got to walk away from that night.