Car accident. Two words, eleven letters. Death. Injury. Sadness. This is what you probably think of when hearing a car accident on the news or from another person. That they happen all the time, that there are worse situations, that everyone dies sometime. Sure, car accidents aren’t the biggest deal in the world while there is starvation, disease, and some homeless. The thing is, there is a whole different story behind the event. That there are different ways to look at depending on the witness, or the victim. I am thirteen years old and about four years ago, I was in a car accident.

Picture this… It’s a bright, sunny day. The sky is a beautiful blue with white puffy clouds swirled through the sky. The grass shimmered and shined in the light. All we had was the road ahead of us to travel home. Home. A place that is safe, calm. Who knew that on this great day, it would be the day that someone could have died. It was my aunt and myself  in one car. She was sitting in the front while I was in the back. She drove a happy yellow punch buggy that I loved so much. The car was so cozy and pretty, I had wanted one myself when I was older, and dreamed of driving the car every time. We had just gotten our nails done and were driving away from the tiny salon. Then, my aunt decided to pull over on the road. I now think about how if we didn’t pull over, it would have never happened. That my aunt and I would drive home, that the thought of “car accident” would never even come to mind. That I would have never had the experience, that I would never tell my story, that I wouldn’t even be typing this right now. But, it did happen. So, my aunt had pulled over on the side of the road and we just sat there peacefully. She probably had to check her phone, maybe make a phone call, who knows. Suddenly, I felt a rushing impact. Our car dashed forward and spun out of control. I don’t remember this part fluently, but I do know that there wasn’t much to think about except life, or death. Soon, our car stopped spinning and came to a halt. I sat there, bawling my eyes out. I looked over to my aunt, who had gotten hit with the airbag that had saved her life. She then got out of the car, dizzy and dazed. “Get out of the car” she said to me woozy as she tried to get me out. I then got out, screaming in fear. We then sat down on the grassy curb and watched the madness before us. Our destroyed car, the busy line of traffic, the police cars and ambulance. And there was the truck. The truck that had hit our car. The truck was a deep gray and next to it was a man. The memory flashed back. The man and the truck, him on his phone.

Soon I walked towards the ambulance and glanced towards the truck where the police were talking to the man. I looked away and got in the ambulance, which I had never done before. The ambulance then took off and I sat there, not knowing what to do. A lady came up to me and started to ask me and my aunt questions. I still sat there in disbelief. She then finished her list of questions and handed me a toy giraffe. It was a small stuffed giraffe that was a faded yellow and beat up. I held onto it, knowing that everything would be okay. I asked the lady “Can I keep the giraffe?” and she replied with a simple, yet disappointing “no.”.  I was so confused. She had given me the giraffe, and now she’s taking it away? The lady explained to me that I couldn’t keep the giraffe because they needed to use it for other little boys and girls. I realized that the giraffe was special to many kids, including me.

We then got to the hospital where I was put into the child’s section and my aunt in the adults. I remember walking down the empty halls, going into my room. I sat in the small, white bed with a stubby ceiling above my with a glossy floor below.  I watched TV and I cuddled up in the sheets. Suddenly, a man came into my room and rushed my bed down the hall. He brought me into a dark, weird room. The lights then flashed on and the room was revealed. It was a circular shape and was pretty confusing. The nurse then handed me a apron-shaped garment and instructed me to put it on. I did so and the lights shut back off. I figured out that I was getting X-rays. Soon, the process was done and the nurse then rushed me back down the hall. I screamed “wheeee!” and waved my arms around like It was a roller coaster. I got back to my room and continued watching my show and munching on crackers with peanut butter. Later on, the door opened again and it was my mother and two family friends. They were so relieved to see me okay and healthy. I went home that day, lucky that I was okay.

Last year my aunt had come over to my uncle's house and we talked about the accident. We couldn’t agree on if the car hit the front or the back, how they hit us, where they hit us. But we both knew that we were lucky to be alive. I did find out that my aunt had hurt her collarbone and realized that we weren’t both okay, and surprised that I never knew this before. As I look back at my 4rth grade car accident, I think of many things. Death, love, hope. I think about the death that could've happened and has happened to others than me because of accidents. The love that my family showed me by coming right away and caring. There is also hope. The hope that me and others had that everything would be okay. These are not the only thoughts that I have, but I know that the memory is very complex, like every memory in our minds. My fourth grade car crash was an important part in my life, an event that will stick with me forever.

Car crash...Two words...eleven letters...