It wasn’t supposed to be me
I race down the sleek road, almost feeling the powerful pounding raindrops through my windshield. My weight shifts onto the gas pedal, “More,” I think as I race faster and faster in the storm. A smile spreads across my face as I dodge cars; the clarity of the world becoming brighter with each one I pass. I hang upside down, seatbelt keeping me in my seat, smoke in my lungs. I can’t breathe. I choke myself as I fumble with my seatbelt, panicking as I fall onto the roof of my car. Correction: what was my car. I crawl out, gasping, a pain in my shoulder and lie down in the cool air, letting the rain soak me. “Breathe,” I tell my lungs, and they do. Lying in front of me is the wreckage of a car on its side. I stare at it, seeing no movement inside. I catch my breath and stand, stumbling over to the car. A baby on board sign. Time freezes as I stare at a car seat, a teddy bear, a soul gone. I throw myself away from the car into the grass, my tears mixing with the rain. My sobs match those of a sirens cry, coming closer as each infinitely long second passes. I thought I knew what I was doing. The speed always called out to me, reassuring me of my power and precision. I never thought it would be me. A father lost a family, and I, a mere mortal, stole precious life. It wasn’t supposed to be me.
I have friends who enjoy racing each other down highways which the police don’t monitor. I have had friends get into bad accidents where their life has changed because of the outcome. Drivers believe it will never be them, but who knows what fate will bring? Saving ten minutes is not worth a life. Nothing ever will be.