so we go to my grandparent's house on my dad's side to celebrate Thanksgiving. everything was okay, I actually had enough food to fill me up when you counted the dessert, my biggest annoyance was that my grandma had to make a big deal about my tattoo which of course got a lot of comments. that and the fact that I realized one of my favorite pairs of pants has a huge hole on the butt and was showing a good two inches square of my panties. me and my mom decided to escape for a while and go get a paper so we could look at the black Friday ads. We take 71 to the Conoco. slow down. turn signal on. sun roof open. I hear my mom say "oh my god" and then everything gets all JARRED way too fast and I hear screeching metal my head is being jerked all over the place and slammed back and I don't know what happened.
scream three times at the top of my lungs before I realize I'm not hurt outside of a freaking pounding headache and then I start yelling "what the hell who the hell hit us what the hell is going on" before I take a few deep breaths. my mom pulls over. I look, there's a van smashed all to hell on both sides and cars behind us too. we make sure we're okay, my mom says call your dad, he doesn't pick up his cell phone, I call my grandma's house while she's calling my aunt's cell phone and when someone - I still don't know who - picks up all I can say is "put dad on the phone put dad on the phone there was a car wreck, we're okay, we're on 71, somebody's hurt" and then when he says bye I hang up without saying bye. and then we get out of the car, there's glass and bits and stuff all over the road, there's a person climbing out of a white car behind us we walk up and there's a man - probably 40 - lying on the ground. he has blood all over his face. somebody had already called 911. I wasn't fast enough.
one time I read something that said you know it's real blood because it looks fake. it was so bright and he kept saying "every fucking Thanksgiving, last year it was my fucking van, this year it's my fucking Taurus" "dad, don't talk like that, are you okay?" "I can't feel my left side, I can't feel it, I don't know" his daughter had blood all over her hands. There was a baby. The baby was okay. I've never seen so much blood in my life.
This lady in a purple dress walks up to us and says "are you the one driving this car? you passed us like a dirty shirt, I hope you're happy, now my child and grandchildren are hurt, I hope you're happy" "ma'am, I didn't pass anyone" "oh, WELL" I don't know what to say, I just stare and keep my mouth shut because if I open it, words that are not very nice and include expletives are going to come out and she's just upset because her son is lying on the road bleeding
I hold in the tears until Ashley and Logan show up with my dad to make sure we're okay and then I can't any more, cry for a few minutes and then I'm okay. I get a Coke to take some Aleve with and as soon as I take the pills realize I have to go to the bathroom, walk across the road into the gas station and get the key. I realize I still have a huge hole in the seat of my pants and can't help but be embarassed, that and the fact that I can't stop sniffling like a baby. have to walk past this row of people I don't know they all stare. I get into the bathroom, after I wash my hands I lean on the sink for a second and think, I'll call Jessica, no, I'll call Alicia, no, I can't call anyone because I'm crying again and if I call them and I'm crying I won't be able to get any words out and I'll just upset them. Leave the bathroom, sniffling more, get stared at again. get a paper, walk back across the road. we sit. and sit. and all I can think is
oh my god look at the Cadillac it's totalled that guy is in an ambulance what if he's not okay what happened whose fault is it if we had taken the Escort, if we hadn't been wearing our seatbelts, oh god we'd be in the ambulance too, we're okay, we're okay, my head hurts, my back and neck, but I'm not bleeding all over the place, we're so luck, we're okay, thank you, we're okay
I look at my clock, holy hell, it's 3:30, last time I looked it was one. We talk to four different officials. No, we don't need to go to the hospital.
As near as they figured out, there were three cars on our side of the road in close succession. We slowed down to turn. The van behind us slowed down to turn. The truck behind the van didn't slow down, rear-ended the shit out of the van, which swerved a bit to try and avoid us but got us hardcore anyways. When they swerved, they either hit or almost hit an oncoming truck on the other side of the road. Which swerved back into our lane and hit the white car with the man. The people in truck #1 were trying to push it off on the Mexicans in the van behind us, probably because their English wasn't great. But it wasn't their fault, they were slowing down.
And now, I'm so tired.