You know that feeling you get when you’re in danger, where time slows to a crawl and you suddenly realize your horrible mistake? I didn’t. Not until recently, and by that, I mean a minute ago. This probably looks really cool to anyone who bothered to watch. A car using a guardrail as a ramp, suspended upside down in midair over another car, with good old me at the wheel. If this was an action movie, I’d probably be nominated for an Oscar. Do crash dummies even get nominated for Oscars? Maybe not, considering how bad they are at acting. I’ve always been an essay texter. You know, that person that spends ten minutes crafting an eloquent, wordy response to your comment that barely spans one line. That doesn’t work too well in slow motion. I don’t even have time to hit ‘send’, because I’m preoccupied with screaming. Well, I was. You get the idea. They say when you’re about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. That’s inaccurate. It’s more like a leisurely saunter before your eyes. That’s slow motion for you. The wonders of modern death. How far we’ve come from mad horses pulling chariots of screaming lords and ladies, trampling passers-by and upending various merchants’ carts. Note to self: Don’t try and text someone while on an overpass. Actually, judging by my position in the air and the distance to the ground below the overpass, I don’t think I’ll need to worry about not responding to my friends’ texts anymore.
This is a log of a teenager’s thoughts shortly before death due to distracted driving. Three died, including the driver.