Due to an overwhelming request to write to my readers, and tell them about the worst day of my life, I am finally going to do it. Now, I know that a lot of you probably read the title of this blog and thought, 'That child-abusing bitch! Fuck her!' However, I am not a child abuser. So, you need not fucking worry. I hit the child with my car, not my fist. No big deal.
Okay, maybe it is a big deal. But who doesn't hit a child with their car at least once in their lifetime? Oh, okay, most people don't. What the fuck ever. Anyways, you need to know the story, and you need to know that this was not my fault. Just kidding, it totally was. Fuck.
Now, everyone knows the rule "Right on Red." It doesn't matter what color the traffic light is, you can turn right whenever you fucking want, as long as there are no cars in the way (or bicyclists...) and as long as there isn't that annoying "No Right on Red" sign. Fuck that sign.
So, I was at a stoplight, which happened to be red. Luckily, I was turning right. Oh shit, I'm going on red! Anyways, there was no annoying sign banning me from righting on red, so I began looking for a break in traffic where I would have a good chance to make it into the gap, without killing myself, my car, or someone else.
Now, you need to know this. My greatest fear as a driver has always been hitting a pedestrian. Always. It scared the fucking shit of me from the time my hands first touched the steering wheel of my very first car. (Fuck that car for blowing up on the freeway in Boise.) Due to this fear (maybe you could call it a phobia, considering how much this terrified me), I was always very cautious when driving around cross walks, and I always looked for pedestrians. This day was no different.
As I scoured for my gap, I always did a quick inventory of the cross walks, all of which were pedestrian free. I found my gap, and did another quick scan. Everything was still clear.
Now, this was a small gap. I had a small car, and exceptional driving skills (haha), so I knew that I would be able to make this gap, if I just mashed on it a little bit. And so I did. And that's when it happened. I hit my first pedestrian.
Now, as I said before, when I looked, all cross walks were pedestrian free. This little fucker was sneaky. He rode up on his bike from behind me, and then cut right in front of me, no stops. Of course I didn't fucking look behind me for a pedestrian. I wasn't in fucking reverse. Not my fault.
So anyways, at first it was so weird. I heard this little yell, and a thumping noise, and I saw this kid rolling up my hood, and onto my windshield. My first thought was, "What the fuck is that?" And then it hit me. Oh god, I just hit a child on a bike! Oh god, oh god, oh god. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
I immediately slammed on my brakes, and, looking back on it, the visual was quite hysterical. You've probably all seen it in a crime show, where someone gets hit by a car, and their body immediately goes stiff and they just roll off of the car, and land with a thud in front of it. That's exactly what happened. It was like this kid was immediately paralyzed in an awkward stiff-bodied pose. And then he hits the ground and immediately goes back to being a limber human being.
So, I stop the car, put it on park, and immediately began flipping off the person behind me for having the fucking nerve to honk at me. I just hit a fucking pedestrian, bitch! Calm your shit. I walked around the front of my car, not quite accepting yet what had just happened. I knew it was real, but I just refused to believe it for a minute.
Me: "Are you ok? Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"
Punk Kid: "Ya I'm fine."
Me: "We need to call the cops and report this."
Punk Kid: "No, my parents can't know! This is my brothers bike."
At this point, the reality of the situation hit me full force. I looked at the mangled bike, wedged underneath my car, and I lost it. I have never been this hysterical in my life. I was blinded by tears, choked by sobs, and my body was convulsing uncontrollably. Somehow, I managed to continue conversing with Punk Kid.
Me: "We have to report this. My insurance will buy you a new bike."
Punk Kid: *Look of horror and the realization that he didn't have a choice, I was calling the cops.*
I dialed 911, and continued flipping off the never-ending line of cars that continued to honk at my unoccupied vehicle, in hopes that it would move itself out of their way. After I managed to tell the dispatcher my location through my sobs, the cops and ambulance arrived. I was even more hysterical at this point, because I had fully realized what had happened.
So, I'm sitting on the grass, filling out the paperwork, which was completely illegible due to the fact that my body was still convulsing, causing me to simply scribble instead of write actual English, when the son of one of the witnesses walks over to me. He was a little curly haired 2-year-old, and he was probably the most adorable person on this planet. He sat right next to me, reached over and grabbed my hand, and simply said, "Hi." The cute-ness of this moment sent me back into full-on hysterics.
At this point, and to my horror, the paramedics walked over to me, and informed me that they were more concerned with me than they were with Punk Kid, due to the fact that I was going into shock. How fucking embarrassing. I informed them that I was just fine, in between sobs and weird choking noises, accompanied by uncontrollable... noises. I don't know what to call them, but they were moaning/crying/weird-ass-fucking noises, that I have never quite been able to imitate.
The cops moved my car, and, deeming the Punk Kid at fault for the accident, slapped me with a $90 ticket and a warning not to run over anyone again. Punk Kid was fine, with the exception of major road rash, and a cool story to tell all of his friends. That is, if he even had any. He was a little punk, and I hold resentment for him in my heart to this day.
And that is the story of the time I hit a pedestrian.
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