It was dark outside, all was silent except for the rain playing its drum beat on the windshield of the Pearl White Lexus. I was about two blocks from my house when it happened.

The car in front of me slammed on its brakes to avoid from hitting the injured puppy that lay in the middle of the street. When I jammed my foot on the brake pedal all four tires locked up, but the worn out bald tread was no match for the slippery asphalt terrain.

“Bam!” I smashed straight into the rear right corner of the black SUV. The car rolled from impact. Then all I remember is waking up outside of the car in the grass. I was covered in blood so I called 9-1-1. The other driver had already been picked up and taken to the hospital with a broken arm and leg.
When I finally arrived at the hospital it was three a.m. The doctor said I had lost a lot of blood so he promptly situated me in a room. He silently stitched seventeen stitches into my forehead. As we were on our way home we came to a standstill at the very spot where the damage had been done. We search the car for anything left with value. All we found was my wallet and a picture of me as a baby.

We had the car towed home from the scene of the accident. When I finally got the car rebuilt it had taken me two months. This was because I did it all myself and it took a while to find the parts. As of this day I have always made sure my brakes were on tip top shape and my tires always have tread and are safety rated. But I am lucky because the next week another accident happened at that very spot and two people were killed. I feel lucky to be alive.