Busted (literally)

Slow motion; it was all in slow motion. Our car sliding into the other lane; Kate saying ‘Oh God please help us’; the car hitting the back; me flinging my arms around Kate; us sitting in the car with Phil running towards us; grabbing at the door handle trying to open it to no avail. It was all a really bad dream that I wanted to erase. Wipe it out. I don’t want to dream that. I wish it never happened, but it did. It did. One moment I’m riding home from a fantastic day with grandma, grandpa, Phil and Kate, and the next I’m sitting in a totaled car, my ears ringing, heart pounding, knee throbbing and my neck snapped with whiplash. The turn of events was the strangest thing.
Kate and I got in a wreck. I held in my tears, cried them at home, and applied mascara when I heard the police were coming. Why is it that we try to hide the obvious dreadful things in life with little cover-ups to prove to our already knowing selves that all is well? Somehow when I took my mind of the slow sliding of our car and the exploding noise of the mini-van barely missing my door and barreling into the passenger side backseat door by applying mascara, it made me feel like everything was ok. I can apply mascara; I’m ok. Weird.
Somehow when I’m in a situation (i. e. a car wreck) like this, my mind and body instantly switches into action mode. What can I do to help? How can I help out? When I’m left alone with nothing to do I go over the event in my head and I start breaking down; the shock jars me then. I think my body tells me, “Ellie, you’re okay. Don’t think about it now, or you’re a goner. People need help right now; you need to focus on them. You can let it sink in later.” And I obey that voice. Somehow I’m able to focus through a situation like that. If I can do something to help, I want to help. When there was nothing to do but stand in the cold flurry of snow, I picked up the pieces of the two cars that had busted off during the crash; a hubcap; orange reflector; grayish-purple plastic from the mini van; metallic dark green from our car. I needed something to do.
It’s a strange thing when you think about it. There could have been so many more things that went wrong that could have injured both Kate and I so much worse. If Kate hadn’t done whatever she did, the car probably wouldn’t have hit the back seat, but my door. I would have been hurt a lot worse. If we would have been hit head on who knows! But I’m not going to dwell on something like that.
I’m alive. Kate’s alive. We got whiplash. We’re okay. We’re going to live. Merry Christmas.