SP01L3D

Biology lab lasted only 15 minutes that day. It took me longer to drive there than the time I actually spent looking through microscopes at some form of bacteria. I couldn’t complain though. It was hot and sunny outside and I was eager to get out of that classroom. I took a deep breath as I stepped out into the warm air. It was one of those 90 degree weather days that I love. I don’t understand people who prefer winter to summer. Winter is so… cold and dreary. Not to mention that cold weather always puts me in a bad mood. But that day was so perfect. It was perfect until I decided to drive on highway 69 during rush hour traffic.
I spied my wonderful Mazda Miata- a sparkly, navy blue convertible—parked right in front. I smiled. Driving is another thing I love, especially in my car. I loved riding with the top down and feeling the wind through my hair. Not to mention the jealous looks I got from people driving their own cars; the kind with paint chips on the side and brakes that squealed when they stopped at red lights. No offense to those with cars like that but, I mean, come on, wouldn’t they love to have a car like mine? Traffic was so crazy on highway 69 at 2:30 in the afternoon. But, I didn’t mind. The longer I got to sit in that car, blasting music (usually that rap CD that my sister made me or Justin Bieber), the more I fell in love with it.

I had just gotten the Miata two weeks ago. Originally, it was my mother’s car. She had had it for a little over 2 months before she decided to give it to me. She gave me the Miata and I gave her my white Honda Passport. A huge white SUV is not my type of car. Being only four feet ten inches tall, it just didn’t fit me. A little blue convertible? That is my type of car. My mom’s reason behind giving me her car was that it got better gas mileage. I drove back and forth from Tuscaloosa to Huntsville a lot and a car with better gas mileage would save me money.

On Highway 69, traffic was bumper to bumper. I only had a mile to go before my turn. I saw the cars in front of me press their brakes as the light just up the road turned from green to yellow to red. The car in front of me started to slow down. I guess she didn’t see the other cars stop because she pressed her brakes pretty fast. I stopped a little faster than I normally would, but that’s traffic. I glanced in my rearview mirror as I always did when I had to slow down just to make sure that the car behind me saw that I was stopping. In the large, blue SUV behind me, a lady was talking on her cell phone. She wasn’t paying attention. Her car was coming up fast as she continued to talk on the phone. And then suddenly, I realized that her car wasn’t going to stop. She must have been going nearly twenty-five miles per hour. I felt my whole body tense up.

         “Oh, God. Please, no,” I whispered to myself.

I shut my eyes waiting, praying, but it wasn’t enough. I closed my eyes as I was wrenched forward. My seatbelt locked against my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I heard the horrible crunch of my car being destroyed. The crash lurched my car forward hitting the other car in front of me. God must have been watching over me because if I hadn’t been wearing my seatbelt I know I would have been thrown through the windshield. I was lucky I wasn’t killed. My heart pounded against my chest. My hands shook as I gripped the steering wheel and pressed my gas pedal so that I could move off of the highway, but my car wouldn’t go. I slammed the gas pedal to the floor in my anger and the engine revved high, but still wouldn’t move. I unbuckled my seatbelt and took a hard gulp of air. I tried to open the door but it was stuck. I ended up climbing out of the car completely unharmed despite the totality of the crash. The lady of the blue SUV ran over to me.

         “I’m so sorry,” she told me, “Are you okay?”

Was I okay? Did she seriously just ask that? My favorite car was destroyed! No, I wasn’t okay. I ignored her and went to examine the damage. Shards of metal and glass covered the road. The whole back end of the car was crushed in; the whole front of the car was crushed in; and the frame was bent. I knew immediately that it was totaled. I glared at the lady.

         “I was talking on the phone and I wasn’t paying attention. I’m so sorry,” she told me in a rush.

         “That’s why you don’t talk on the phone in rush hour traffic,” I snapped, “Because shit like this happens! This was my favorite car and because you weren’t paying attention and talking on the phone, it’s gone!”

         “You don’t know that yet,” the lady told me. But I knew and I knew that she knew it as well. It was gone. My nice sparkly navy blue Mazda Miata convertible was dead.

In all honesty, I’m still not over it. The lady who hit me did not have insurance so I never received any money towards a new car. Instead, I got that huge white SUV back and my parents went on another search for a good deal on a nice used car. They told me that I would get to have that new car. They found a Scion a few weeks later. My mom even sent me pictures of it and told me about all the features it had. I was so excited to finally have a different car even if it wasn’t as good as my Miata. The day before I was leaving to go home my mom called me.

         “Hey, Daddy and I were thinking. I am just going to keep the Scion for myself and you can just keep your Passport. Okay?” my mom said.

Of course. I had a feeling something like this would happen. My friends keep reminding me that at least I have a car to drive. I guess I’m just a spoiled brat because I complain about having a car that I don’t like. But I know they’re right. Maybe one day I’ll be able to save up for a different car. Or maybe, just maybe, someone else will hit me and total it! It wouldn’t surprise me either. People in Tuscaloosa really can’t drive.