September 2, 2021: I rolled my car windows down, inhaling deeply. It had been another long day of school, and the familiar warm, woodsy breeze refreshed me. I’d gotten home, only to realize I was running out of espresso beans, and I was in desperate need of the ingredient for my daily elixir. It only made sense to drive up to my favorite coffee shop and grab a bag. So I sat comfortably in my car, Tom, cruising down back roads, past the dense woods that cut the fading sunlight into strips of gold. I softly hummed a savory song I had stuck in my head, tapping my fingers on the wheel in beat.

A small orange car in front of me seemed to be enjoying the day just as much as I was. They kept an even pace with mine, so it was easy to space out. Then something strange happened. They turned on a turn signal for a second, started to swerve, then turned off their blinker and kept going, as if they were confused where to go. They flashed their brake lights once, so instinctively I moved my foot off the gas, hovering over the break. Abruptly, several car lengths back from the vehicle in front of them, they slammed on brakes, coming to a complete stop. Shocked, I pushed on the brake pedal with all the pressure I could, hoping, praying that I would stop in time. I braced my neck against the headrest, and for a moment, it seemed like I was seeing the world in slow motion. I saw their glaring red lights, I heard my bag in the trunk slide against the wall, I felt my car lurch underneath me. I felt a gentle breeze brush through my hair, a startling contrast to the slow dread and panic building up inside of me.

Impact. My brakes made a squeaking, skittering noise on the pavement, and I heard the audible crunch of metal. Everything sped up again. My head snapped forward, then was catapulted back against the headrest. I felt the car shake and the steering wheel jolt in my tight fists. As the force of the crash pushed the other car forward, I saw an extremely obvious dent in the bumper. I rolled my windows up. I covered my mouth with a hand, completely in shock, staring dumbly at the car in front of me.

Finally, they turned into a nearby driveway, and I followed them, trying my best to remember everything I’d ever heard about what to do in a car wreck. Do I show them my registration? Do I call the police or do they call the police? Does it matter? My thoughts instantly took a darker turn at “does it matter” and I wonder what would happen to my driving record. What if I lost my license? Oh god, did I hurt anyone? What if I killed someone? My thoughts were an inescapable tsunami of horror. I tried to console myself with how small the dent appeared to be. It felt like a year before we both finally parked in the driveway, out of the way of traffic.

I saw a younger woman get out of the orange car, and I put sunglasses over my eyes to hide the sudden tears. I shakily opened my door, my shoes crunching upon the contact with gravel. I heard crying, and saw a little blur run out from the car, throwing himself at the woman. She wraps her arms around a little boy of 8 or 9 at most, then looks up at me. She gives me a warm smile, and I startle, but offer a weak smile back. “Don’t worry he’s not hurt, he’s just a little scared.” She pats his head then gestures for him to go back in the car. She chuckles, “First crash?” but not unkindly. I relax, relieved at her gentleness, warm tears still streaking down my cheeks.

Looking back on it, it all seems like a blur. It feels so unreal, like a random dream or a scene in a basic action movie. But I’ve never felt helpless terror like that before. Despite it all, I will never forget the woman who treated me with such mercy and kindness. She offered me a smile in what could’ve been just as traumatizing for her, if not more so. The whole affair after impact took less than 20 minutes, but it will forever be ingrained in my memory.