Student Wreck; Wear Your Seatbelt

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At 1:43 am, the morning of Monday, October 22, I sat with my boyfriend in the back seat of a parked cop car, writing those same numbers down along with my name, address, phone number, and description of the accident. Of the accident, I remember only my headlights on the  road sign, and then my headlights shining endlessly into a dark cavity beneath the road. Between those two moments I must have hit my head. I don’t remember falling. Smashing into the ground. Rolling. I can only imagine what my body had experienced without me.




I woke up hanging in my seatbelt to the beeping that a car makes when the lights are still on and you open the door, only much louder. My hair was hanging down around my head, and I had to press my hands into the glass on the floor- the floor that was really the ceiling- to prop myself up enough to keep the blood from pooling in my head. My seatbelt wouldn’t budge; I couldn’t lift my full weight off of it. My door was stuck shut, and I couldn’t reach the passenger door. I couldn’t open my window either. So I looked ahead at my windshield, which was shattered, and I realized that this was my reality. I called my boyfriend and he arrived maybe 12 minutes later, physically sick with worry, and he climbed through the back to where he could reach the buckle and help me out.


A policeman arrived soon after that, as well as a fireman, tow truck, and an ambulance that carried trained, apathetic women. They looked at me and saw that I was standing, talking, and behaving normally and asked if I wanted to go to the ER. Initially, I saw no real reason to. My seatbelt had saved me from injury and, likely, from death. It may have been two days later when I realized that, as I said earlier, I couldn’t remember the impact- something that surely would’ve burned into my memory. There were several other things that I couldn’t catch onto- a series of instances wherein I couldn’t react accordingly to or even comprehend material presented to me.


After school, I couldn’t manage to do anything but sleep. When my dad woke me up for dinner, I could hear him trying to wake me up, but my body refused. It felt like sleep paralysis, and for a good minute I was convinced that I was, irrevocably, dead. After that I went to the ER and was diagnosed with a concussion.


I cannot communicate strongly enough how critical it was that I was wearing a seatbelt. Please wear yours.

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