It should have never happened..

The clock reads 9:38 am as I head out the door for work. I am scheduled to be in work by 10:00 am.

As I approach my car, I think to myself what my dad said that morning, “This is the first time you’ve been at work since your brother left.” Correct. I helped him move his things to Tennessee 4 days prior.

I drive my normal route to work, taking the same road every time I go to work. I always switch into the right lane eventually because my place of employment is on the right side of the road. I wait for two cars to pass by before I merge into the right lane.

I get past the convenient store and go through the light. Before that, I knew I was listening to a song that reminded me of my brother. Since he’s been gone, I’ve missed him. But, my thoughts weren’t strictly on him, they were on the road, just like they always are. I am ALWAYS a careful driver, look both ways, don’t tailgate, don’t go through red lights. I do none of that.

So, I’m going up the hill on the road. All of a sudden, the car in front of me slowed down. I remember them being stopped. I put on my brakes as hard as I could. Nope, it wasn’t enough time. Boom! I crashed into them. Both of my airbags came out, passenger and driver. The smell in there was so foul I almost got sick. I knew what I did when I put the car in park. My car was smoking. I knew it as soon as I unlocked my car door to get out.

The driver in front of me called back to me some names and accused me of going through a red light. You see, that’s not what happened. I merely didn’t have enough time to stop. Yes, of course, we all know it was my fault. Duh..

I called my mom in a frantic then dialed my manager’s number. There was a man that came out of his house to see if we were okay. I asked him if he thought my car would blow up, he told me to take my keys out of the ignition.

Okay. I looked at my car. NO WAY! It was done. I was done. The right side of my windshield was starting to shatter. My front lights came out. My hood was dented up. my dashboard was cracked. I tried to calm myself down, but there was nothing that would help me.

Even though, my mom came and hugged me. It was still my fault. Stupid, I told myself. I’m always so cautious, but what happened this time?

The police came, we told our stories, exchanged information and two cars were towed, including mine.

It was called “junk.” As I watched it being lifted up the ramp of the back of the tow truck, I was depressed. I LOVED that car. I LOVE that car still. My bonnie. New battery and all I just got a few weeks prior to that.

What if I didn’t switch lanes? What if I went another route? What if I left earlier or later? Would any of this have made a difference? Would I still be carless? Who knows.

Everyone was okay, including myself, except for a little scratch. They say that “cars can be replaced, but not lives.” I understand that, I really do. But, that doesn’t change the fact that my car is no longer drivable. Only the parts are usable. What’s that to me though?

It never should have happened. The question that sits in my mind is why did it seem as if the car two in front of me, randomly stopped.

I’m telling you that the car in front of me stopped. Why? Is it still ruled as my fault?

Well, that’s what I believe for now. Until its finalized. Until I get a phone call confirming that it WAS in fact my fault, I will wonder.

Now, I’m in the process of searching for a new car. That was my 1st car. I heard even if it were a newer car, it still wouldn’t have been able to survive. There was too much damage done to the car.

$400. Yup. That is what I received for my “junk” car. Are you kidding? That car was worth more than that! Do you realize I didn’t put much into that car. It didn’t have too many problems and when it did, I would fix it and move on. But not this time. No. It’s gone. It’s sad.

The issue is I don’t want a new one. I want my 1998 Pontiac Bonneville. Why?

It’s so stupid.

I guess I just have to get used to not having it. What else can you do?

It should have never happened…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s