A recent accident involving a close friend of the family just happened in which a two-year-old child was killed and the mother of the child severely injured. I am going to be telling the event through the driver’s perspective.
The sound of the sirens has stopped, and only the flashing lights shine around me. I’m eventually taken away from the scene for questioning. I can still barely breathe. As I’m escorted away from the vehicle, my eyes wander back to where it all happened, back to where there wasn’t enough time to stop, back to where my life had ended. Why didn’t I just look up? Why did I have to be so curious? Why? O Why? A few meters down the sidewalk, the policemen pull me off to the side. They begin their interrogation by asking, “What happened here?” I continue to look off back at my car as I start to relive the horror that occurred only minutes ago, and I drift off as I speak.
Only thirty minutes earlier…
“Bye Mom! I’ll see you at my next volleyball game on Saturday, right?” I ask her with a swift kiss on the cheek as I rush out of the house. I know it might sound ridiculous that I’m a college student living in the dorms when my mom lives only a few blocks away from campus, but I need the freedom. I get into my reliable little Honda civic, place my cell phone on the small space near the shifter, insert the keys, and again wave to my mom who is now leaning in the doorway waiting for me to safely take off. She is such a worrywart, and if I would have known of the tragedy that was about to happen, I probably would have taken longer to say goodbye.
As I leave the cul-de-sac, I turn onto one of the busiest streets in my town and start heading in the direction of my school. You know when it’s just about sunset and the sun shines directly in your eyes no matter how big your sun visor is? That is exactly what I was experiencing, so I reached to find my sunglasses and safely pulled them out of my purse. But soon after, I hear the tunes of my cell phone jingle, and just in case I forgot something at my mom’s, I look down to see whom the text is from.
Not only two seconds later, the tragedy struck.
I remember hearing the screeching of my tires as I braked for dear life, trying to avoid the pedestrians in front of me. It’s not enough though; the sounds of screaming and metal meeting bone loudly echo through my brain.
I begin hyperventilating. Did that seriously just happen? Did I really lose focus for that long that I wasn’t able to see the young mother and her toddler walking in the crosswalk? Once my car comes to a halt, I immediately dash to see if there are any survivors. Tears are flowing down my face as I see the mother and her daughter lying on the ground motionless. There are more pedestrians surrounding the scene. I hear some of them calling for emergency services, and others come to help stabilize the victims. Eventually I can hear the sirens from police cars and ambulances as they begin to approach the scene. I find a seat on the curb, watching in disbelief. How could I have done this? This can’t be real. I remain on the curb in shock, not being able to move. Only tears and the feeling of my heart, ready to jump out of my chest, reassures me that I’m still alive.
After giving my scrambling interpretation of what just happened, I am asked to leave the scene with the policemen to continue our conversation down at the station. Without hesitation, I comply with the officers and leave the dreadful site. As I’m sitting in the back seat of the cop car, I continue to go over and over the accident. It just doesn’t feel real to me. If it weren’t for the over-active heartbeat, I’d imagine I was the victim, and hope I had been the one to die. But the tragedy continues to play out in my head, and even though I have never really been one to ask God for anything, I pray the two people I hit, live to hear my apologies.
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