Her:
I jolted awake in the morning with a gut feeling that something was off. As I began to scroll through social media, I came across a message from my best friend about how he had fallen asleep behind the wheel and flipped his car all but fifteen minutes from my house. Immediately I lost all sense of direction and feeling in my fingers as my head began to spin. When I finally regained my awareness, I was able to send him a text to ask if he was alright, while also leaping out of bed to go find my mom. I was able to hold it together until I saw her face and I felt the blood drain from mine as I had to tell her that I didn’t know if my best friend was okay. Still in my pajamas, I was ready with my keys in hand about to go find him without even knowing which direction to go.
Him:
I knew driving this morning was a bad idea. I had stayed up all night to bring my roommate to the airport early and then decided to start my three and a half hour journey home. The heat coming through the air vent and the quiet static of the radio started to make my eyelids heavy. I had thirty minutes left in my drive. These roads were all familiar to me now. The weathered gas station that was constantly swarmed with people from out of town, the road signs I have read endless times, and the fallen tree from a storm that rolled through three years ago. Twenty minutes left on the highway, and all I remember is the sound of my truck as it hit the guardrail on my left. I immediately jerked my wheel back to the right in an attempt to correct it. That’s when the truck flipped. One, two, three times it rolled as I was being thrown around and then I blacked out. When I came to it, I was upside down and hanging from my seat belt. I was able to calmly exit the truck as I called 911. I took a picture to send to my friends and family, and was immediately met with a flood of texts and calls while I was waiting for someone to come help me. I knew my car was totaled the second I looked at it. My best friend from school was awake for some reason and started frantically texting me as if she were going to come find me. Sure, she’s fifteen minutes away, but what is she going to do? Once the police and paramedics arrived and told me that I was alright, I decided to send her a text. I told her not to worry, the same spiel I had given to every person that panicked and called me. I had to. I wasn’t going to tell her that it had shaken me up because that’s not what she wants to hear, it’s not what anyone wants to hear. All anyone needs in this situation is reassurance. So I put on my brave face and even managed to make a joke as I told each and every person that I was alive and well and simply wanted to take a nap. That’s a believable story right?
Her:
I was now able to hold on to the fact that not only was he alive, but miraculously did not have a scratch on him. I could no longer sit still, as my brain was moving a mile a minute and tears were continuously streaming down my face. So I walked. I kept my feet moving. Not sure where I was going or how long I had been going for, just keeping my physical body moving in attempts to catch up with my mind. It was after nine aimless miles that I received a phone call. It almost made me mad how relaxed he was. He continued to try and comfort me, telling me that everything was alright and he had no idea why I was crying. It made me feel as though I was losing my mind, but I knew exactly what he was doing. He’s the type of person to make everyone around him feel relaxed without a care in the world about himself. I knew that he was taking care of everybody else instead of letting the reality of the situation set in. This type of accident isn’t something you simply brush off your back, there is always lasting pain and fear involved, and I made sure to let him know that I was going to be there no matter how he feels or what he is thinking in the future. He shouldn’t have to carry this burden with him by himself, no matter how hard he is going to try.
Him:
She was crying, and I felt kind of bad. It was probably the adrenaline that was still coursing through my veins. It felt good to know that I was cared about, but at the same time I felt kind of guilty for making everyone scared. But more than anything, I was mad at myself. How could I be so stupid to drive when I knew I was exhausted? Falling asleep behind the wheel is one of those things you always see in movies and never expect to happen to you, and it was even more frustrating that I felt like it was my fault. My dad came to pick me up, and he wasn’t even mad at me. Mom was in absolute hysterics, so she stayed home with my brother. Watching the remainder of what would have been my drive home was infuriating as I realized truly how close I was to my destination. As we pulled into my driveway, my mom busted out the door and held me for dear life and she cried…and cried…and cried. Like don’t get me wrong, I get it, but also I’m alive, can we relax a little? Evidently not because as more and more time began to pass, it finally set in that I very well could have been dead. I was exhausted still, and sick of answering the endless stream of texts and phone calls, so I decided to take a nap. I closed my door, finally in some peace and quiet, but I found it to be anything but peaceful. I tossed and turned as the crash played on an endless loop, willing me to feel the terror that I didn’t entirely grasp in the moment.
Her:
I made it back home, not fully knowing the path that I had walked for the past couple hours. He had stopped responding to my texts, so I’m assuming he took a nap. It was late morning by this time, as the sun finally rose above the tree line in my backyard. I didn’t want to be alone, as I knew my mind would continuously play the “what if” scenarios that I’m sure everyone was thinking as they saw those horrifying photos of his roof caved in. I called one of my friends in town, and we decided to go out for coffee and a drive in an attempt to distract me. We had a lot of catching up to do anyway since we had just gotten home for Thanksgiving break. We filled each other in on everything that had been going on in our lives now that we were at different schools. The good, the bad, and the ugly as some may say. She always knew what to say in order to calm me down, even if she couldn’t relate to the current situation at hand. Once I got home, my parents were back from running errands, and I suddenly felt like everyone was walking on eggshells around me. They would ask how he was, but were very careful to not mention anything about the accident itself. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, my family would be driving to my grandparents house a few towns over as we always do. But this time would be different. Not only do I drive past his house to get there, but I also drive right past the very same guardrail he hit all but twenty four hours prior.
Him:
I eventually fell asleep, it was far from easy, but I stopped rolling around after a bit. Ha. Rolling. Get it? Because I rolled my truck? Too soon? Anyway, I’m already sick of talking about it. It’s been less than a day and I’ve already had to do a retelling more times than I can count. There are only so many jokes I can make and shocked reactions I can endure. Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I just know it’s going to be headline news there for sure. My house will once again be infiltrated by people who want to hear all about how I almost died, while they all do the same “thank God you’re okay” like I don’t even believe in God, leave me alone.
