Trevor's voice echoed through my vehicle as he screamed into the CB radio. My heart was racing as my eyes opened. I was covered with glass and I could taste blood. I looked to my left and noticed my driver's door window was gone. I grabbed the handle and tried to push the door open, but it was jammed. The girder post that held up the sign had smashed my door in to a point. I tried to get out of my seat but I couldn't move. At first I thought I was paralyzed, but I was able to feel my legs and move them. No, I was unable to move because the door had been pushed in far enough to pin me between the door and the side console. Contracting my hips, I put one hand on the wheel and the other on the console and pried my body out from my seat. It wasn't easy. I tore my jeans on the jagged metal of the door, but I got out. I crawled out the passenger side of the vehicle, carrying Trevor's CB radio with me.
I slammed the door and proceeded to yell "FUCK!" Why the reaction? The delivery drivers had a weird "bet" going on. The understanding was that each person would, in turn, be in an accident. And that accident would end up corresponding to a different side of the car. Trevor had been rear-ended (this was before I had been ever been rear-ended), another driver had been hit on the side, and Darren had rear-ended someone else. So basically it was my turn to be in an accident, but I was supposed to be hit on the passenger side of the vehicle. I was mad that I didn't follow the "bet" as it was jokingly set up. Yeah, that was a weird thing to be mad about, but I was running off adrenaline and not necessarily myself. Oh, and I was also frazzled and forgot that I was actually supposed to have an accident involving my driver's side. Score!
Trevor got out of his car. He was a wreck. Nearly in tears, he hugged me and said he thanked god I was all right. I don't blame him at all. He had been in an accident as a child, in which he lost his mother and a part of his ear. Also, he saw my smash into that sign. It must have looked horrific. The car certainly looked awful...like someone died. In fact, I'm really surprised I didn't die, let alone walked away from it. Trevor told me there was blood all over my face. I didn't feel it though. I didn't feel a thing.
We stayed at the scene for several minutes. Trevor broadcast over the CB to other drivers that I crashed my car and that we'd be at Tim Horton’s soon. An off-duty police officer stopped and walked over to me. He showed me his badge and said "you did real good here." I told him I had called 911 and they said that if no one was injured then there was no need to wait for police. I collected everything of importance from my car and then Trevor drove me to Tim Horton’s. Darren, Veronika (Trevor's niece), and a few others were there. Veronika gave me a hug and said she was so happy I was all right. We then all chilled and had a coffee.
Apparently, 911 received dozens of calls from passersby because the accident looked so bad. A tow truck came through and pulled my car from the ditch. We saw the tow truck drive by Tim Horton’s as it headed to my home to drop it off. After a coffee, Darren and Shawna drove me back to my house. My parents were worried and a bit pissed that I didn't come there first. Sorry. I really wasn't thinking logically at all. I looked a wreck, with blood all over my face and cubes of glass embedded in my jacket. I went to the washroom to assess the damage. And man I was lucky! There was a small cut from a piece of glass JUST to the left of my left eye. Even a few millimeters to my right and I could have had severe damage to my left eye. I had a few cuts here and there on my left cheek, but nothing severe. I took off my jackets (I was wearing two leather jackets that day as it was cold). A piece of metal moulding from around the top of my car door had come loose and was likely the culprit here. It had torn through BOTH leather coats, my jacket, and a quarter inch of my skin. I have a scar there now from the injury...and it's true that scars are a strong reminder that something in past really did happen. My left leg was extremely sore because the door caved in on it, but there was no laceration...just the beginning what turned out to be a nasty bruise.
I cleaned up and left to go hang out with Darren and Shawna. Just not in my car. My car was bent at a significant angle because of the accident. It was never going anywhere again. Here are a few pictures I took of the car so you can see for yourself (and one of the sign):
Keep in mind that the sign, when straight, would have faced well to the right on the picture...so much so that you would see the back of the sign and not the front. It is twisted over 90 degrees there.
Remember how I mentioned that feather I found in my car a few months before the accident? Well the next day, I went outside to take pictures of my car. While taking pictures, I noticed that at the top of the car, at the point of impact with the sign, there was paint chipped off. What was shocking was that the paint was chipped off in a specific form. The shape of a feather. I admit the picture quality is rubbish and the angle isn't perfect, but here's a picture:
It's may be hard to tell, but it really looked a lot like a feather...a lot like that feather I found in my car a few months before. I went into the glove box to retrieve the feather for comparison. The feather was gone...
There you go. That's the story of the worst accident of my life and how, in many ways, I'm a lucky son of a bitch (sorry mum). In the end, it's a happy ending, even though I wasn't able to work for two months (as I didn't have a car). I hope you enjoyed this little read!
By the way. Have you been wondering what made me decide to share this story? Late last week (November 2010), I got into my car. I don't know how it got into my vehicle. It was just resting there on the passenger seat...like an omen...