Friday the Thirteenth

It was Friday, February 13, 2009. It was almost three o’clock in the afternoon and I was going to

be late for work. As I was driving up Route 6, I passed car after car hoping to get to work on time. Next thing I knew I was on the opposite side of Route 6 and my car was jammed in the fence of the golf course. I couldn’t speak and it felt like my tongue had been removed from my mouth.

How did I get on the other side of Route 6 facing the opposite way? As I was switching from lane to lane trying to make it to work, I was in back of a black, beat up truck. We were passing the Dodge dealership where the medium gets cut off and there is a spot that you can go back down Route 6 towards the mall. I was praying that I would make it to work on time. Then the guy in the truck slammed on his brakes and I swerved out of the way. I lost control of my steering wheel and I went in front of the truck, over the medium and into the fence.

I was frozen, what just happened was all I was thinking. I shut off my car and looked around. The guy in the truck looked at me, shook his head and drove off like nothing had just happened. I couldn’t believe it and I reached for my phone as a paramedic who had been driving down Route 6, pulled over and ran over to my car to see if I was okay. As I called my dad, the paramedic called the cops. The paramedic was nice enough to wait with me until the cops got there. He told them what happened and then he left.

My dad finally answered his phone on the last ring. I told him what happened and there was a long pause. I could tell that he was having a bad day and this was the last thing that he needed to hear. My older sister’s boyfriend, Josh, does towing an my dad told me to call him and have him tow my car. There was one problem with that plan; Josh wouldn’t answer his phone. By this point, one of the three cops who would later arrive, had already arrived. When I was telling the cop what happened, I couldn’t stop staring at his sunglasses. They were big, black, and they covered just about his eyes and a majority of his forehead. I focused again on telling him what had happened and I was so shaken that I couldn’t stop crying. Every other word was a deep breath. I was trying to get my words out but they were stuck. I looked up Route 6 and there were cars like no tomorrow.

As I finished telling the cop with the sunglasses what happened, the next two cops arrived. One was an older cop and the other seemed like he didn’t have the time for this and asked if the two cops could handle this and then he left. This older cop looked like he wasn’t one to mess with. He was probably a little taller than five feet and he was a little on the un-athletic side. He had attitude written all over his face. The older cop asked me to tell him what happened. I told him that I was on the way to work and I was driving in the left lane going up Route 6. I was behind a black, beat up truck and he had his signal on ready to turn. He was already passing the middle where you can turn so I didn’t think he was going to turn. When he slammed on his brakes, I swerved out of the way and ended up across Route 6 in the fence. He looked at me with a confused look on his face and told me that my story didn’t make sense. He asked me how it was possible that a car can be going one direction and end up facing the complete opposite way. As the older cop walked away, all he told me was that I probably wouldn’t have crashed if I had better tires. I was thinking to myself, thanks Captain Obvious.

I started crying again and called my older sister, Kristal at work and asked her if Josh was working. She asked me why and I broke down. She told me to hold on that she was on the way. When she got there the older sop, who was still full of attitude, asked Kristal who she was. She told him and she said that the tow truck was on the way. She told me to sit in her car and she said she would stay over next to my car an wait for the tow truck.

All I could feel was all of Dartmouth’s eyes on me as I was walking to my sister’s car. I was completely embarrassed. People were stopping and looking in shock. When the man finally got in there with the tow truck I was just relieved to get away from there. When I got home I told my mom what happened and she looked dumbfounded. At first she thought that I was kidding and just didn’t want to go to work. Then she realized I wasn’t lying and she was in shock. My mom thought that I just crashed my car and left it there. I told her the whole story and she just stood there. She yelled at me for a good half hour saying that I drive reckless and that I could have hurt someone else and how my insurance would go up. She went on and on and it felt like an eternity. She told me that I was lucky that I didn’t get hurt and that I was the only person involved.

I just kept thinking to myself, Friday the Thirteenth is really an unlucky day.