This is based on my past experience in a car accident last spring. I am currently fine, and my current car is also ok, to the best of my knowledge. Thanks for the sympathy, but really, I repeat, I'm fine.

 

I was not going too fast, or so I thought. I was cruising, comfortable in my cocoon of steel. I knew that nothing could happen to me.  I was invincible. I was a teenager after all, and my perishability had never entered my mind. I knew nothing would happen on that hot, dry stretch of freeway.

But then it did happen. Everything happened. I couldn’t hear anything. My face was numb. Half of what I saw was just Red. Red with a capital “R”, a physical presence that was there with me. I had to look to find my hands. One was on the wheel where I left it; the other was laying on the passenger seat. My glass and steel shell was ripped to smoky shreds. I coughed and choked on the powder acridly hanging in the still, quiet air. I looked for my hands again and forced the to stop shaking enough to pick up my phone and get the door open. I fell out. My feet weren’t working, but I didn’t even question why.

As I they cleaned me up, I called my friends. I talked to different people for hours until my phone battery ran dry. I now know that anything can and will happen. My friends are not there to be taken for granted. Life, just the chance to breath again, smelling the clean New Mexico desert air is my drug; I cant’ get enough time.