You don’t ever think it will happen to you… Until it does.
Last night on my couch I sat looking for something to watch, with a lovely glass of dark red wine in my one hand and my cellphone in the other. I’ve become the master of multitasking especially of late. I’m too scared to leave my mind to wander. So I leave the TV on as background noise and drown myself in social media.
I could have engaged more in my writing, since it’s been about 3 weeks. Ironically I planned on writing something on Saturday 2 weeks ago. But now I try not to think too much. Sticking to pop culture and celebrity stalking right now feels better than thinking, or writing.
On the Saturday of the 1st of April (the irony has not escaped me that it happened on April Fool’s Day) I was driving on the highway. I was on my way to a friend’s bridal shower and I was running quite late. I was going as fast as the speed limit allowed (no I wasn’t speeding because I was late) and listening to the radio. I love listening to music while driving and so I would crank up the sound whenever a good song started. But on this particular day I started hearing another sound too.
At first I couldn’t make it out but realized it’s not part of the song. So I turned the radio down and what do I hear? The sound was coming from the car. It’s difficult to describe the sound, it was almost like a revving-rattling. When I took my foot off the accelerator then it would lessen but not go away. One thing stuck in my mind though.
This is not a good sound.
So I lessened my speed and started looking for a spot on the side of the highway to stop. I just knew my car was about to break.
And then it happened.
A loud bang was heard and my car’s engine cut out. Fortunately, I was already busy decreasing my speed so I could just swerve off the road to the grassy divide in the center of the highway. I did this while simultaneously activating my hazards and looking in my rear view mirror to make sure no cars were directly behind me. One was a meter or so away but the driver had slowed down and was busy switching over to the next lane. But I also saw something burning in the middle of the lane behind me.
Did a burning piece really just break off my car?
By the time I had come to a complete stop on the side of the highway there was smoke rising around the car and I could see the tips of flames. My hands were shaking so bad but I managed to get hold of the door lock and unlock my car quickly. I grabbed my phone and tried to grab my handbag, on the passenger side floor, but the straps were wound around the gearshift stick so I jumped out the car and then leaned in to try and grab it again. I felt my shins were starting to burn so I left my handbag, and my friend’s gift, and ran away from my car.
I stood there on the side of the highway and watched the flames start to engulf my car. Suddenly one thought dominated my mind. Am I really just going to stand here and watch my possessions get burnt up? Hell no!
So I ran back and wrenched the passenger door open. Thank God for central locking. I grabbed the gift and my high heeled shoes (yes I was driving barefoot). But my handbag wouldn’t budge. So I sucked in my breath and yanked hard till the straps snapped and it came free in my hands.
I ran as far away from my car as I could and then just stood there and watched it burn.
And then the desolation hit.
I was not only watching my car go up in flames, I watched my property (I just finished paying that damn car off a few months ago!), my sense of security, everything. Plus I had also realized that my purse was never in my handbag. I had just shoved it in my door’s compartment that day instead of returning it to my handbag like usual. My identity, licence, and every card for every little thing I was part of was at that moment turning into molten plastic and ash.
I stood there with my adrenaline dropping and, after some people who had stopped assured my my car won’t explode (fucking movies giving us these false fears), I just broke down and sobbed. I still couldn’t figure out what the hell happened. It just didn’t sink in that I was watching my feisty little bright yellow car burn down.
When I started calming down and everyone told me how lucky I am for having escaped the car unharmed I broke down again, because I was freaking lucky.
I was lucky I heard the rattling sound in time.
I was lucky I had already decreased speed so I could just pull over safely and not crash.
I was lucky that my seat belt didn’t get stuck and my doors unlocked.
I was lucky that the flames didn’t engulf the car more quickly.
But most importantly of all. And this is the one that gets to me every night while sleeping.
I was so lucky my daughter wasn’t in the car with me.
She would have been strapped in her car seat and I was shivering so badly I’m not entirely sure I would have managed to get her out in time.
That thought just sends a chill down my spine.
Yes my car burnt down. And it really sucked to have gone through that. But I can’t help feeling that there were so many things that worked out just fine. Say what you will but God stood by me that day.
I’m not diminishing the fact that the car’s built in safety features helped save me and I’m not ignoring the goodwill of others that stopped to help me. But God still stood by me that day none the less.
Later that night, sitting shell shocked on my couch I finally looked at my broken handbag sitting on the table. It was the first and only designer handbag I had ever owned. It really was my pride and joy. It was the handbag I wore when I needed a confidence boost. And as ridiculous as it may sound to others, it made me feel good to wear it. The loss of that handbag was somehow worse than the loss of my car (or perhaps it’s loss was just numbed out) because over the next few days I would constantly see that broken beautiful bag on the table and cry all over again.
Two weeks later I am still a little shook up. After the first week the constant shivers and flashbacks subsided a bit, and I’m not snapping at everyone. But I still can’t sleep. I know I went through a trauma but I hate using that word, it feels like I’m trying to go all woe is me and I’m not. I have, however, felt constant tension, so much so that I have constant chest pain too and I try not to talk or think about what happened. I try to move on but my thoughts keep betraying me and the memories rush to the surface in my quiet moments.
I know I will have to talk to someone. I know I need to face the insurance company since they still haven’t paid out my claim. I know I need to get new bank cards and a driver’s license. And I know I need to check out new cars again.
But I just don’t want to think about it all yet. So last night, sitting on that couch I realized it’s time to write. Writing this is my way of putting the memory of April 1st into words. And sorting through my jumbled thoughts.
Now it’s time to start talking to someone and learn to calm down, and eventually move on.
But one thing is crystal clear.
Life is good.
Life is worth living.
I have spent so much of my life just complaining.
But now it’s time for a change.
