I remember thinking that time had frozen. It obviously can't freeze, but sometimes I think logic stops existing for a few seconds every now and then during an event of great importance. It's as if the world is set on pause, and you realize that you are only a tiny part of it, with different universes and plans of existence...then you blink and everything is back to normal, or at least time is. My life wasn't normal after time un-paused.
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Getting a tattoo wasn't as painful as I had thought it would be. It's that annoying pain you feel after you get a flu vaccine, only for hours on end. It itches, feels scratchy, but pain itself isn't exactly at a high level. At least that's how I felt after getting my first tattoo. Eighteen and new in college, it was what I had wanted to get for years while in high school. Hidden on my right hip, not broadcast to the world, it was perfect.
I hopped in the car after it was done with my two friends, ready for a fun night out, well in rather, since we were all underage. We were going to a friend's house to hang out and relax, tell stories of how college was going so far. Finally all of us were back in town, and it was going to be a fun reunion.
I didn't fasten my seatbelt at first, since my hip was still wrapped in cling-wrap. I didn't want anything to rub against my fresh ink since it felt a little raw still, and I was only driving around town so what could happen in a dozen blocks? I had the steering wheel to keep me steady, my teenage brain thought. We decided to go to Starbucks, then to the party/hangout.
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The crunch was the first thing that broke the long lasting silence in that frozen second of time. Tire wheel on windshield, it sounded like it was coming from a megaphone speaker right into my ears. The car bounced back twenty feet, scraping up the road with tire marks. When we finally stopped, I grabbed at my seatbelt, forgetting I had absentmindedly fastened it after Starbucks. Then I grabbed my hip. The wrapping was no where to be found, and all I felt was metal against my stomach. How is this possible? I thought about what I should look like, but all I could see was the door dramatically bent into my side, L-shaped. I checked for pain, but felt nothing, thanks to the adrenaline boost. Then, this terrible whirling started, the truck that hit us was trying to start his car with his foot on the gas, making his tires spin. The windshield looked like spider webbing, and started to smoke from the new friction. The engine roared on and the truck jumped alive, trying in vain to crawl up my car and down the road. It attempted a few times, like a monster truck does in an arena, but the engine died again.
The man responsible for the accident stumbled out of the truck, three times over the legal drinking limit. Neighbors poured out of apartments and houses to watch everything. A few men saw the drunkard and corralled him until the police got to the scene. My two friends had gotten out right after the crash since their doors were working, and were on the phone with 911.
I felt the car slowly start to move backwards down the slight incline. I hit the brakes but nothing happened. Still not able to move my torso, I wasn't sure what what causing the movement. Was it a tow truck? I tried to open the door, but the handle was no where to be found, twisted out of sight. I banged on the window, started screaming at the people watching me. I felt like a fish in a tank about to be flushed. It was the most helpless feeling I've ever experienced. I thought the car would explode with me in it. I panicked. Suddenly a crowbar showed up in the seam of the door, and slowly started to work it open. It finally budged just enough for me to crawl out, thankful that I could still move all my body parts. I got out as blocks were being put on the back tires of my completely totaled car.
I grabbed my friends and we huddled by the wreckage until all the reports were filed. This was the drunk man's third DUI, and he would get a felony for the accident since he injured people. His bail was set at a hundred grand. My back began to get stiff, as well as my neck. I found out I fractured my tailbone, but nothing was broken. I would need to take therapy for two years so my tailbone could heal.
After a while, I looked down at my hip, forgetting I had gotten a tattoo. There was a medium amount of blood, and when I lifted my shirt, I saw a perfect seat belt line across the middle of it. Right through the design. But you know what? I walked away from the worst car crash of my life. A little damage to my tattoo was fine by me.
