I wanted to get my foot out from under my butt to put both feet on the floor, as if somehow having good posture would help the situation, but inertia seemed to pull against every logical movement. As the second truck hit us, it felt as though half of me obeyed the commands of this sudden change in motion, and the other half was left behind. My seat-belt caught, and it cut into my chest like the two inch wide strap had suddenly become a single stretch of fishing line.
The sounds of metal ripping from the body of our car seemed only amplified by my little sister’s screams, and I wanted to tell her to use her inside voice. The sheer intensity of sound filled my ears and nose and mouth. It was suffocating. For a moment, metal, rubber, flesh and asphalt were equal and fought to remain most untouched. I knew, with sudden certainty, that if I lived through this moment, it was by no fault of mine. So this is what a really bad wreck feels like.
We started tipping, and with a loud crack, my window broke away from its frame. It was half shattered, and our van slid unsmoothly across it as we continued toward the field of barley below us. The windowless gaping hole kicked up every rock and pulled many lungs-full of field dirt into the vehicle. It billowed in dark, thick clouds that seemed to muffle out all details of reality. It wasn't until the van came to a final resting place that the dust settled and the volume rose again to a rightful panic in the intensity of the situation. I called out to my mom.
She didn’t answer.
3 comments:
Not sure why I can't get all the text to be the same size....does anyone know what's wrong with it? :P
This takes me back. As I read, I'm reliving it. Yuck!
I forgot to add, that means the writing is good tho. =)
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