Name: Barbara Ann Morgan Brown
From: Virginia Beach, VA
Votes: 0
“Sweet
Home Alabama,” my family and I screamed along to the song in our
packed, eight-passenger Suburban as we crossed the border from
Georgia to Alabama, making our annual trip from Virginia Beach,
Virginia to Jonesboro, Arkansas for the greatest family reunion of
all time. The energy in the car radiated a sense of delirious
excitement.
This
was our second day on the road and the lack of sleep and a home
cooked meal seemed to no longer phase anybody. We had one goal in
mind; to make it to Arkansas safely. Jammed in the backseat with my
two older brothers, towering well above six feet tall, and my younger
sister, definitely created a cozy experience. “Oh my gosh, you’ve
got to be flipping kidding me,” my mom groaned as we all started
coughing and frantically rolling down the windows, my eldest brother
smirking in the back seat. “I’m dying you turdwad dingleberry
poophead,” my sister shouted at him as she tried to prevent herself
from cursing in the presence of our parents. We pulled over to a rest
stop and barely made it to a complete stop before all six of us
stumbled out of the car in dire need of fresh air. Returning to the
car after a quick stretch, it was my oldest brother’s turn to
drive. He had just gotten his permit and needed to work on getting
more hours before taking his driving test. Exhausted beyond belief, I
fell asleep almost immediately after getting into the car. I could
hear our car start up and pull away as I dozed off, hoping to not
wake up until we got to our final destination.
“Oh God please no,” my mom screeched at the top of her lungs,
waking me up so fast that I could have sworn I got whiplash, but then
I turned around to see what everyone was staring at. Letting out a
horrendous scream, similar to everyone else in the car, I saw the
biggest tractor-trailer carrying unimaginable amounts of gas hurtling
right at us, as we were at a dead stop on the highway. “This is it.
It is my time,” I thought as I prepared for impact, knowing I would
die as soon as the truck collided with us, causing an unavoidable
explosion. However, we all got lucky, the truck driver was smart and
shot off the road, missing our car by nearly an inch, before slowing
down into the grass. Speechless, I turned around to the front to see
why we were stopped in the first place. The car in front of us, with
two girls about in their twenties, had come to a complete stop on the
highway to pose for a selfie in their car.
As
we came to the realization that we were all still alive, we changed
lanes. We drove past the two girls, only to see that they were
actually taking pictures for Snapchat. My family and others around us
almost died so they could have the most picturesque selfie. We
immediately took the next exit, letting my brother, who was probably
scarred for life, get out of the driver’s seat and calm down. My
dad being the only one with enough breath to talk, inquired, “I
think now would be a good time for a dinner break. What do you say
kiddos?” We all unsteadily shook our heads ‘yes’ as we trudged
into the sketchy rest stop for food.
