Okay, so I’m a day late. What else is new these days? 🙂
This week’s First Line Friday line is:
“After the accident, unease grew like a mold in the corners of his mind.”
We are allowed to modify the line, so I did. “His” is now “her”.
After the accident, unease grew like a mold in the corners of her mind. Were they going to stop? It doesn’t look like they’re going to stop!
Her heart raced every time a car approached an intersection. It has been this way for her since the accident back in 1992.
She was driving home with her 22-month old daughter in the backseat. They had been helping a friend with his election campaign. They were on a curvy country road almost in sight of the driveway leading home. She slowed down as she neared the intersection, but she didn’t have a stop sign, so kept on going. A station wagon was approaching the stop sign on the right. He did not stop. He slammed into the passenger side of her car, careening her car down into a ditch and up the other side into a utility pole in a cow pasture. The baby screamed.
In a panic, she pried herself from behind the steering wheel, afraid of what she would find in the backseat. Was her baby harmed? The baby was strapped in her carseat, but still…She crawled into the backseat to get to the baby. The man was approaching, calling out, “Are you okay?”
Mama Lion erupted like Mt. Vesuvius on that man. “Do I LOOK like I am okay?” Her car was totaled, the front end pushed so far in that the key couldn’t be pulled from the ignition and the steering wheel was jammed. And the baby…Got to get to the baby!
She was angry and wanted to hit that man, the man that ran the stop sign and could have killed her child. Her sister was on the way home, too, and came upon the accident. Sister’s blood pressure shot through the roof.
Someone had called the owner of the pasture where the accident happened as well as her parents. Her mother came and chewed into that man like a rabid dog defending her pups. Then, her mama went and chewed up another man about it, too.
To this day, intersections fill her with dread. Are they going to stop? Are they going to hit me? Am I going to make it home? Sometimes the fear makes her ride the yellow line too closely. She wants to be able to get away if they don’t stop, doesn’t want to be hit again.
It has been 25 years since her accident. Her ribs still hurt and are a constant reminder to always, always watch the other drivers, especially those approaching intersections because chances are they aren’t watching and will not stop.
Please visit Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie for this and other fun writing challenges!
Image source: Pixabay. Edits by Suzanne G. McClendon