The Day I Almost Died

December 6, 2009.

4:00 PM, on a Sunday afternoon.

This was the day I almost died.

Sitting next to my mom in her blue Windstar van, 

I ate a slice of pizza and talked to my mom,

not realizing what was about to happen. 

I was coming home from my dad's house,

back to mom's. 

My mom was angry. 

To this day I still have no clue why. 

She drove like a madman,

knuckles white on the steering wheel. 

I paid no attention.

Why would a nine year old be concerned? 

We arrived at an intersection, 

which I call the "Scary H" now, 

and we were just mere minutes away from home, 

not knowing that this would be the day I almost died. 

Mom made an almost fatal mistake. 

She crossed Scary H, 

not seeing the Yukon,

barrelling towards us at seventy-five miles an hour. 

I was just about to chomp on other bite of my pizza when, 

smack.

crash. 

I heard glass breaking, flying everywhere. 

When we stopped in the ditch,

I had no idea what had happened. 

I hit the windshield with my forehead,

as I forgot to put on my seatbelt. 

I was in so much shock, 

my mouth gaped open as I tried to see what happened. 

I cried as soon as I saw the large, bloody gash on my forehead. 

I thought I had broken my head. 

I cried and I cried. 

The Windstar was in shambles. 

Mom had only had this minivan for six months,

before this day.

My dad was only concerned about the car getting wrecked.

He never cared that I almost died. 

I will never forget that day.