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Allison Nickel

Personal Narrative Final Draft

“Really, are you serious? Oh my goodness!” I screamed in excitement as I cried.

I was test driving a car and my mom asks, “Do you want to drive it home?”

I had not had a car for three months. When I left that day, I was the owner of a GMC Terrain. I no longer had to ask anyone for rides or borrow their car. This feeling was utterly amazing.

As I drove home in my car I noticed all of the bells and whistles that my new car had that my previous car did not. The interior was all black and freshly cleaned with no signs of a previous owner anywhere. The black exterior was shiny just how my 18-year-old-self had always imagined.

Rewind three months to the summer.

One cloudy Wednesday afternoon my step-sister and I were driving to her orthodontist appointment. We were almost there whenall of a sudden, WHAM. We had been hit by another car.

“Oh shit!” I screamed as my face flew forward and my feet slammed on the brake. My heart was beating out of my chest. The cars facing me were stopped and people were rushing to my door to make sure we were alright. When I got out of my car, all I saw was pieces of my gray Honda Pilot scattered all over the road. Car pieces I did not even know existed, were sprawled out covering the entire lane of traffic. The lanes seemed wider than normal. The two-way road had a median with little sections for cars to turn left out of neighborhoods instead of right turn only. Alex, the woman that hit me, was coming out of a neighborhood and turning left. Even though she had a stop sign, I don’t believe that she stopped. My road was a straight shot, no stop signs until I hit a dead end. As I was coming down the road she came out and hit the back-right passenger door. The momentum slid her car forward, ruining the front passenger door and breaking my front axle.

When approaching Alex after she had just hit my car, she asked, “Were you swerving?” I responded in a sassy tone, “Not until I saw you come at me.”

Alex and I were very nervous and did not want to touch anything that could be considered “evidence” for the police. We left our cars and all the debris where they were following the accident.

There was a moment of silence before she began apologizing and asking me for my information.

One of my first calls was to my parents. As soon as they answered, my emotions were impossible to hold in. The next call was to the police.

That was the most nerve-wracking phone call I have ever made.

My parents arrived on the scene first. I lost myself in tears in my dad’s arms and I knew everything would be okay.

Shortly after that, there were lights blocking all traffic and the headlights and other pieces of car debris were being picked up from all over the road. The police officer was a sweet woman with brown hair. I had never talked to a police officer before, so I was shaking when she started walking towards me. She had come to me first to find out what had happened.

“Well, I was driving down the road and I saw her coming, but she was still behind the stop sign. I thought I had passed her, but then she hit me,” I said in a shaky voice, all in one breath.

“Okay. Where on your car did she hit you?” she asked very sweetly, as though she had dealt with nervous, freaked out people like me before.

I told her “She hit my car at the back-right passenger door, however, her car slid and ended up damaging the front passenger door too.”

She began walking around to inspect my car and determined “While there is damage you can still drive your car home today.”

What! She wants me to drive my wrecked car home? I am terrified of getting behind the wheel after what just happened.

Before she had time to take another breath my dad chimed in and said “Ma’am, both of her front tires are facing opposite directions, doesn’t that have something to do with her axle?”

Luckily the officer turned around inspected the front tires of my car further and agreed with my dad. “We will have your car towed, I am deeming it undriveable,” she stated.

After hearing all that I had to say, the officer walked over to Alex. She listened to her side of the story and checked out her car. While I was waiting to hear what I had to do next, it started to rain.

Perfect timing. Of course, I was standing outside, getting soaking wet.

My parents and I decided to start moving my belongings into their car, since I was not able to take mine home. My car was a mess. I had everything in there, my dance bag, an extra outfit, shoes, a car seat for the kids I babysit, and wrappers/trash that I hadn’t cleaned out in a few days.

The officer came and told me, “She is trying to fight the ticket, but clearly she is at fault for the accident. You can tell by the way the two cars were damaged and where the two cars ended up. I have everything I need from you, so unless you want to watch them tow your car, you are free to leave.”

I decided that I would rather go home than stand in the rain, so I left with my parents. When we were walking to their car you could hear Alex arguing with the police officer to not get the ticket.

I can’t believe she is arguing with the police. I would be worried they would make the price of my ticket higher if I argued with them. If she argues with police, I wonder how she is to others with more authority than her?

Since I left, I do not know if she ended up receiving a ticket or not. What I do know is that I did not.

That night my brother asked me to go with him and our cousins to play darts. I did not want to enter a car at all that night. “Come on, the car accident was earlier today, you’re fine,” he told me when I didn’t express any interest to go with him.

“One day, if you ever get in an accident, you will understand the feeling. It’s a lot scarier than you think,” I stated as I was trying to rationalize in my head if I would be able to go.

I cannot avoid cars forever. Tonight, is just not the night.

Here I am now, waiting for the next opportunity to drive. Every opportunity I have, I take. By the way I responded to driving after the accident, anyone could have thought I would never enjoy driving again. It just took a little bit of getting used to. And maybe a desire to have my independence back and not rely on others to get me places on time.

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