Hard Learned, Hard to Forget

A little blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl drives her cousins around in a Ford F150 ride on truck. They all giggle as she pushes on the gas and the battery whirls louder, the wind blowing her hair in her face. All they feel is freedom and excitement, as if they can go anywhere in their 5-mile-an-hour toy truck. Driving seems so easy in that moment; they don’t understand how tragedy could ever come from such a simple thing. They will feel like the exception to tragedy until she makes one mistake, and sets an example for them all.

On her way home from the park, that same girl thinks back to that little toy truck and finds it funny how she felt so free going 5mph, but now, 10 years later and 50mph faster, she has never felt more trapped. She stops by the gas station for mint gum to hide her breath, sighs a heavy breath full of pain and loneliness, and heads for home. She passes the familiar buildings, flies between the trees on both sides of her, and slowly feels her eyes grow heavy with exhaustion and despair. She looks up to see a steep downward hill, and yanks the wheel to the right, desperately trying to regain control of her very real, very deadly pickup truck. A flash of the road, a glimpse of cars in front of her. Then she’s calling her dad, confused by her surroundings, so close to home. Two men are above her, trying to pull her out from the passenger side. Then all she feels is cold and thin fabric around her; sees worried nurses above her; feels herself being slid off a board and onto a machine. Then her mom is beside her, tentatively brushing the hair from her face. She has a severe concussion, bruised ribs, collapsed lung, shattered nose, but no foreseen permanent damage.

When she finally pulls into her driveway, riding in the backseat of her parents’ minivan, she sees friends and family standing around, waiting for her. When she steps out, some are crying, some force a small smile, and some have looks of brokenness and confusion, mirroring her mental turmoil. How did she get here? They usher her inside and everyone sits or stands around her, her mom holding her hand ever so carefully. Her dad sits across, staring deeply into her eyes.

“The people in the other car, are they okay?” She manages to get the question out around a swollen lip. This isn’t the first time she asked, but all her mom had told her was they were injured and in the same hospital. Her dad’s expression changes to one of grief and pity. She looks around to everyone’s faces, but he continues to look at her. After a long moment, he finally tells her the passenger of the other car didn’t make it. She died on the scene. The girl’s body can’t take anymore, between the concussion, the motion of the car ride home, and the brick of grief and guilt that had just hit her chest. But she can’t let her loved ones know, can’t hurt anyone else. She slowly and calmly walks to her bathroom, stating she would be right back. After a moment her best friend follows her and holds her hair back while she throws up everything in her system.

Weeks go by, friends come and go, her mom tries to get her to eat, her dad can barely look at her, all the while it’s all she can manage to lay in her bed, facing the wall. Her mind is a war of numbness and guilt: survivor’s remorse. How did she get here? Her family was disappointed, her friends inspired to learn from her mistake, her classmates intrigued by the new gossip of the golden girl, and all she wanted was to undo her past, to go back and show herself what she would do, who she would hurt going on that path. But that was impossible, so she just sat there in her guilt, surrounded by people but still feeling alone, wishing for those days when she was younger and life was simpler.

She learned she was responsible for herself and everyone else on the road, and that taking a risk is selfish, as it’s not just a personal risk, but one for everyone around you. After healing, time, and driving courses, she now implements all the ways to be a safe driver that she knew but didn’t see the importance of before. Her lesson was hard learned, and she will never forget the importance of safe driving.