The day before Thanksgiving of 2023, I was in a car accident. I had never been in a car accident before, and here I was alone, in my dad’s car coming home from therapy, smooshed up against a city bus. I am a good driver, now when I tell people about my accident they think it’s funny, because it isn’t like a normal accident between two cars, it was me against a bus, and now people like to think I’m a bad driver, but I’m not. It was the day before Thanksgiving, I was feeling good, I had been broken up with two weeks prior, but I was starting to feel good again. I had gotten my haircut the day before and was looking forward to going into work after my therapy session. It ended about 15 minutes late, because we lost track of time. My mom wanted me to stop and get lunch for the both of us, and she said I could bring it in to work for her and say “hi”. I got lunch for myself but she hadn’t responded to what she wanted until after I had gotten back into the car, so I went back into the restaurant to grab her what she wanted. If I hadn't done that, there would’ve been no bus. I replay those 10 minutes in my head over and over, even now, wondering if I had done something different, would it have never happened? I received my mom’s food and was going to leave. There were two ways to exit the parking lot, I went to the right because it seemed easier. Tucson is a big city, I just wanted to get home the easiest way I could. Maybe if I had gone left, I would’ve seen the bus more clearly. I was taught by my dad how to drive, he told me to always look both ways. I was in a good mood that day, happy I had gone back to get what my mom wanted, I was waiting to turn and people started piling up behind me, and the anxiety started, I normally take longer than others would, to make sure all the lanes are clear, but this is Broadway, I can’t expect for it to clear all the way, so I watched, and waited until it mostly was. I saw a bus down at the light, it looked like it had slowed, it looked like it had stopped, I watched the rest of the traffic coming, and I went to go, looking one more time, and it was there. It was there and no amount of braking would stop it from coming at me, I had already started to pull out into the road. And I screamed. I still hear it sometimes. I screamed as I braked and I shielded my face. But my head thrashed around, and suddenly it was over but music was still playing. I opened my eyes and my car was on the sidewalk. And I had hit a bus. I was in a car accident. But I am a good driver, how could that be? The people from the bus unloaded, and started crowding my car, trying to make sure I was okay, but all I wanted was my mom. I called her, and told her I was in an accident. She called my grandma who was only a few blocks away from me. The firefighters came, with the paramedics. I heard cracks as I left my door, my sideview mirror was in pieces on the asphalt, the paramedics checked me out, I told them I couldn’t afford an ambulance, they made me sign papers. I still didn’t cry, I wanted to appear grownup, like the adult that I was. I was 18, I knew nothing of being grown up. I didn’t cry until I saw my grandma’s car, stuck in the traffic I had created. That’s when I let myself fall apart. Soon my mom came and I went to my grandma’s house, my mom drove my dad’s broken car, having to hold the door because it wouldn’t close. I found out I got a concussion, turns out that became the least of my problems. Now if I’m in someone else’s car, sat in the passenger’s seat, and an almost-accident occurs, my heart begins to pound, I cannot breathe, my knees to my chest, and again I scream. My therapist believes it’s left me with PTSD. Sometimes I wonder who I would be, if I hadn’t stayed late at therapy, if I hadn’t gone back inside for my mom’s cookie, if I had gone left instead of right, if I had waited for all the traffic to clear, if I had just done this instead of that, would it be different, would I be different, would I go back to who I was then? Would I not be this scared girl, who remembers all too well how exactly it feels to be hit by a vehicle, sometimes I miss that naivety, sometimes I miss it a lot.