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Almost died


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Written two days ago:


Today I learned the true meaning of the word ‘Luck’.

It’s one of those words you just can’t quite seem to grasp until you’re at the wheel, staring at that oncoming tree that beckons you closer and closer until you realize what you’re doing truly isn’t right.

As a matter of fact, that’s the exact second it hit me. I was barreling towards this tree, I don’t know how exactly it happened, but it did. And when I saw the right side bumper take the heat, I knew I was going to in flames with it.

Ally; she was my car. My ’92 Chevy Lumina. My pride and joy. My baby.

She was pimped out in furry pride stickers, and funny pillows in her back seat. She was blue, with soft interior and the largest back seats I have ever see in a little sedan.

She saved my life today.

You can stop thinking this is a story, because at 10:37 this morning, this had all happened.

I sat in the driver’s seat, straining to realize what was going on. I could feel my chest convulsing, and hear the sirens in the back of my mind explode with a symphony of high pitched chorus. My poor baby. I had shattered her fragile heart. Beat it to death, to a smoking, smothering halt with this huge oak tree.

She was my first priority. My baby, it’s okay, everything will be fine. I’ll bring you home, and we’ll drive to class in the morning. You’ll be okay.

She wasn’t okay. The motor was practically sitting next to me in the passenger’s seat. The laptop had some how flown from the back seat floor, to the passenger side floor, hiding there under the dead beat motor.

Zazka, the laptop, she survived, I’m typing on her now.

Ally, my dearest Ally sits down below the garage, soaking up the rain, and reminding me that she had saved my life.

Next thing I knew, I was fumbling around, trying to find my cell phone; which again, was lodged over on that passenger side. I pried it out, dialed, and waited the longest minute I have ever waiting in my life.

Blood was pouring down my face. I could taste it in my mouth. I was shaking, I couldn’t feel anything. I sat there, petting the steering wheel after mom had answered and hung up. Luck was here. I was sitting in it, drowning in it. breathing it. I was alive.

The scene was splattered with chaos. Cars ever where trying to see what had happened, asking if everything was all right, asking if we needed them to call someone.

No, we had handled it.

I heard mom talking as I sat there in the skeletal remains of my baby. She said that she had thought by ‘Mom, I hit a tree, come help me.’ I had merely brushed a tree, slicing off my mirror or denting up the side. The said she literally broke, froze, shut down when she had saw the wreck.

I didn’t blame her. It was terrible.

It took twenty minutes to get me to the emergency room.

By then, pain had started to branch, engulfing places I didn’t even know existed.

I had finally gotten ahold of Sym, and we all three sat here in the emergency room as every five minutes I went from happy, to sad over and over again.

I learned the meaning of the word luck today.

Luck is getting up, brushing yourself off, and telling yourself;

“Well, I hope to god that never happens to me again, but life is life, and I’ll defeat whatever it throws at me.”

Last but not least,

I thank the soul of my little lumina.

I owe her my life.


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