Throughout my lifetime, I’ve been in numerous life threatening experiences for the past fifteen and a half years I’ve existed on Earth. Most of these incidents however tend to be car accidents. I have been in three major car accidents. Not many people my age can say the same. Over the years, I’ve learned my family does not have very much “good luck” when it comes to cars; or any vehicle for that matter. This is the story of my most memorable, scariest moment of my entire life.

Let us start off with some background. This will show you how unlucky my family and I are with vehicles. My dad had been in many many near death accidents before I was born. Motorcycle, race car, truck, regular car, you name it. Heck, my dad even hit a freaking horse once! I mean, who do you know who’s hit a horse!? It’s quite ridiculous how bad of luck my family has with vehicles, especially my dad. There were several times where we’d been out somewhere together and we would lock the keys in the car or something stupid like that. This still happens today. Even after all the lessons we should’ve learned beforehand. One time, we lost the car key to our van at my school football game. My dad was furious, and had no clue what to do. Turns out, they key was literally IN THE DRIVER SIDE DOOR THE WHOLE TIME. Looking back on it always gives us both a good laugh.

My first car crash incident happened when I was about between the ages of seven to nine years old. It was in mid-winter, around January or so. It felt just like a normal day. At the time I was in the first or second grade. I can’t quite recall, but I know it was somewhere in that zone. Anyhow, it happened to be a school day. I woke up just as I normally did. Not on my own of course, for my dad has always had a sense of humour, and thought it was funny to wake me up by barging into my room singing, “FOOTBALL FRIDAY NIGHT, FOOTBALL FRIDAY NIGHT” even if it wasn’t a football friday night. It was our little inside joke. I have never been a morning person a day in my life. So of course I yelled at him, pulled the covers over my head and tried to go back to sleep. Eventually, I would wake up, eat breakfast, get dressed, and do my normal “get ready for school” routine. When I was finally ready to go, we got in the car and were off.

My parents split up a while before this, so I spent equal time with my mother and my father. My mom lived literally two minutes away from my school, while on the other hand, my dad lived about fifteen to twenty minutes away. Me being the age I was, in that amount of time felt like an eternity. So, I reclined my seat and dozed back off to sleep in the car on the way. We were in one of my dad’s favorite cars of all time. It was his little ol’ white Subaru. Anyway, I fell sound asleep. All of a sudden I start to wake up. I notice something. My dad has been sitting here talking to himself, cursing under his breath. Which could only mean either I did something wrong, or mom made him mad again. I look over at him and see him struggling to move the car. He was pressing on the gas, turning the steering wheel; but yet we stayed put. Something was wrong.

Out of nowhere, BAM! We get rear ended so hard and start spinning out. We’re spinning and spinning in the middle of the road on a bridge. I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what to do. I just try my best to keep calm. I think, my dad’s got this under control, it’s going to be okay. Boy was I wrong. My dad had zero control. We just kept spinning out until finally, we ended up in the ditch at the bottom of the bridge by the railing. We hit the railing, and the whole front passenger side of the car is smashed in. At this point, my dad’s not worried about our safety anymore because he knows we’re okay. He gets out of the car, and walks over to the truck that hit us. He is enraged. He is cursing him out, shouting, everything you could imagine. There was no need for anyone to be escorted to the hospital, thank God.

My dad’s little ol’ Subaru was totaled, sadly. Fortunately, we received money though to buy a new car. After about 3 hours of just sitting there, I ended up going to school for the remainder of the day.

That was the story of my first car accident. Now, I am going to tell you the story you’ve been waiting for. It was the first day of summer. Just got out of the sixth grade, so I was about twelve years old. My dad and I were pumped. We decided we were going to go to the movies to see a Spider-man movie with my uncle. We were on our way, I had my little dog Daizy in my lap. Windows down, music loud, hot summer breeze, not a worry in the world. All of a sudden, I catch a glimpse of the sun reflecting off of something from my peripheral view. I turn my head to look, and I knew what was going to happen. I scream and point, “DAD WATCH OUT!” I was too late. We were hit in the side of our car going fifty five-sixty miles per hour. We were only on two wheels, about to flip. Thankfully, we didn’t. I hold my dog’s leash tight and pull her small body against mine as she starts to fly forward toward the flying glass of the windshield. There is glass everywhere, and blood. I have never been so scared in my life.
I instantly start to cry. I go into a state of shock. My dad gets me and my dog out of the car, and we go sit on the lawn next to us. The people who lived right in front of the accident, explained to us that they watch brutal car wrecks happen like this too often. They bring me out a lawnchair, a blanket, ice cream and water for my dog to try to calm me down. I’m in midst panic attack. The ambulance comes rushing, there are cop cars everywhere. Interviewing me, my dad, and the girl who hit us. The girl sat on the lawn farther away from me, cuffed, chanting while crying, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” repeatedly. I look over and see some of my friends from my old school in a Jeep on the road beside us, waving, looking terrified. There was glass in my foot, and I could not stop shaking.
When it begun to get too cold, the nice people who gave me the chair and ice cream let me stay inside their home until me and my dad were sent home. The tow truck driver eventually drove us back home, and we were safe. I got the glass out of my foot and we left the scene unharmed. My uncle and his girlfriend came to our house to make sure we were alright. Our car was again, totaled. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think the driver who hit us was intoxicated while driving.

Ever since this accident, I’ve always been cautious when riding in cars. Although I’ve been in accidents before that one, I had never been more traumatized in my entire life. For the next year or so, I was scared to death to ride in cars. I would always pay attention to every little detail, making certain I would never have to experience that kind of trauma again. My dog used to love car rides before that accident. We would always say, “Daizy, wanna go for a ride?” in this high-pitched voice and she would tilt her little head then come running outside and jump into the car. Ever since, every time we take her on a car ride, she shakes and trembles uncontrollably. Not because she is cold, but because she suffered the trauma as well. She also never gets on the passenger’s side seat either. She always has to stay right in my dad or mom’s lap while they drive. I will never forget this accident.

Through all of the wrecks and near-death experiences I’ve encountered, this one is by far the most memorable. But, it does not hold me back anymore. I did experience mild PTSD for a year, but now I am completely normal. In fact, I’m more of a risk taker now. I love doing on edge things, and living on the “wild side.” I like to live life in the fast lane, as if there is no tomorrow. I love going on spontaneous adventures and doing crazy things. You could call me an adrenaline junky. I love going to amusement parks and riding the biggest, fastest, scariest rides there are. Even though, I’m not really scared of many things. I have a love for cars, whether I’m driving or riding, they make my soul feel at home.

But, that accident will always have a mark on me. To this day I always make sure whoever is driving is being responsible and knows what they’re doing. Because after all, you never know what day could be your last. Just like I’ve always been told, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” You know what they say; there ain’t no rest for the wicked.