Therrysays.com

When our car got hit from behind, that was the exact word that gasped out of our throats for each hit that collided into the bumper, and that was the one thing I remembered so clearly for it all happened so quickly, amongst other things that were quite traumatic enough. My boyfriend in the passenger seat, me in the driver’s seat, getting our heads knocked about with series of the most unpleasant thuds and bangs we’d ever experienced in our lives. Ever.

It was our first car accident, whereas my boyfriend had had his motorbike accidents for four times, hence the scars on various parts of his body. Luckily we were not injured but escaped with a few shocks on our nerves systems - our necks and heads throbbing and hurting every time we try to move them.

I’ve been agonizing over it since then, wondering and thinking and doubting and self-convicting myself. Even blaming myself, at some stage, whenever I thought about it, which was bad, I know but couldn’t help myself not to.

We were on the fastest lane on the freeway that evening. The guy in front of me was driving the Suzuki APV in a jerky sort of way - speeding up and slowing down and it was at a point when he just stopped all of a sudden and I couldn’t brake fast enough. Everything happened so quickly and yet every hits and every bouts of it was happening so slowly, and if you’ve ever seen The Matrix and the bit when Neo was avoiding the bullets then you’d know what I mean.

I knew I was going to hit him. I knew there was no way avoiding it.

What I didn’t know was that it wasn’t over yet, and that I was about to be crashed into from behind for exactly three times in an exactly the same interval and the thud was so hard and loud and bloody painful, during the time it was happening all I could think of was I was in total deep shit - the deepest I’d been in. The crash from behind pushed us to hit the APV again, and this happened twice, until the car finally got to a halt.

When it all stopped, I held my boyfriend’s hand, asking if he was alright, and he asked the same thing, both completely stunned and shocked, like it was all a bad dream.

But it wasn’t. We were still there.

When I got out of the car, I saw four cars behind me were not equally as damaged as mine but much worse. Miles worse. Mine was minor, if comparison was required.

The middle-aged Chinese guy who hit us with the Lancer was already out and he was just standing there, arms akimbo, examining the damage from his car, shock and astoundment all over his face - pretty much like me. I saw a lady with a baby in her arms about fifteen meters away. Another bald Chinese dude in work outfit clutching a mobile onto his right ear, examining the others who hit and got hit. I caught a glimpse of an Avanza and its front totally crimpled over.

My boyfriend arguing and yelling every single explicit words he knew to the guy in front of us.

Soon the towing car arrived. We were holding out traffic and jamming out the freeway. It was all a blur for me anyway. I still couldn’t believe it happened. To this very day I questioned it. The how’s and why’s and yet still not knowing the answer.

When the freeway officer told us to drive aside, the APV just drove off. At first I thought I was going to pull over and try to sort it out but at that stage it was no longer anybody’s fault. So I continued driving home.

I remembered calling my mum previously and she was frantically worried and the reception was so bad she thought the car was wrecked to pieces and I was bleeding all over the place.

When we got home, we just sat on the couch, hugging each other, holding hands, feeling like we wanted to cry but too distressed to do so. I called my mum and told her I was home and she said she’d be on her way immediately.

When she turned up she didn’t get in the house. I wondered what was taking her so long and I realized she must be inspecting the damage. When I opened the door she saw me and right away she hugged me and told me not to worry and that she was glad she didn’t lose me. We were both bawling our eyes out and I was so relieved she wasn’t at all pissed off with me.

My boyfriend stayed the night. Despite what happened we were thankful. Incredibly thankful. It could have been worse. We were left unscathed, and everything could be put back to normal, though money would be in much need for repairements.

He said to me that perhaps God wanted to test us, to see what we would do if dreadful things happen upon us - whether we’d curse or give thanks, for whatever was given would also be taken back. I knew it was right and even while it was happening I knew it was so. I was so relieved that we were okay. I was even more worried to those who were behind me, and felt guilty because I kept thinking that maybe I could have done something to prevent it all.

While I was busy speculating about - my head practically making whirring noise from all the thinking and wondering, my boyfriend retorts good-naturedly, “I think you better stay on the eighty from now on, hun.”

And I thought - Shite. I’m a twenty-five year old female driver going on sixty.

*) Actual event happened on the 6th of March 2007.

This entry was posted Friday, March 9th, 2007 at 9:37 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.