A Narative…

The alarm clock goes off. 6:30AM. “Fuck. I don’t want to go to work.”
You get dressed, grab food, get in your car. Call mom when you get there.

Your on the highway now. 17- your comfort zone. Once you get off, you don’t really know where your going. It’s 7:15. You look ahead at the traffic. Someone hit their brakes. Now at the car just ahead of you. “O shit. Fuck. Fuck.”

You just slammed into a car. But it wasn’t your fault. You know that. But thats the way it looks. You get out of the car. The image of the airbags going off is engraved in your head now. Fuck- 4 cars. Is everyone ok? Yes. Thank God. You want to call you dad. You call 911 first. Your somewhere on the highway. By exit 129 going east. The cops are there in minutes. Then you call your dad. Your ok. “It wasn’t my fault. I remember what you said. I kept my distance. I wasn’t tailgating. I slammed on my breaks. It wasn’t my fault.”

First you think of everything worst that could have happened. Your still alive. Everyone is. Thank God. Thank God for your seat belt, for your airbags. Of all those moments you relax while you drive, this time you were driving upright. Hands at 10 and 2. Thank God.

Once the adrenaline rush is over, you think that it could be better. “Fuck. my car is totaled. Fuck. I’m the last car. But it wasn’t my fault. I had no time to react. I wasn’t tailgating. I wasn’t even speeding. Fuck.”

All you want to do is see you dad and tell him it wasn’t your fault. Its just a car he says. Thank god your all right. Its just a car. Fuck though. “It wasn’t my fault. Fuck…Thank God I’m alright…I wish I was at work right now.” Later.