If only I had listened to my gut from the very beginning, I wouldn’t have ended up with a smashed windshield, a curse and a scary experience.
The worst day ever began when I asked my father what the dent on the hood of my car was. I had been driving the car for six months but had just noticed the crisp dent. He explained that the man who had previously owned the 1993 Acura had his hood fly up and smash his windshield, which I didn’t even think was possible.
Around 3:00 p.m. that day was a Plano Recreation Dance class for children with mental and physical disabilities that I was planning to volunteer at. I was reluctant at first to leave because I didn’t have a cell phone, but my mother reassured me that if anything happened I would find a way to get help. Still I felt uneasy about leaving, but the thought that the children needed me won.
It was my first time volunteering at this place, and I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going. I thankfully made my way safely and was able to help the kids. After dancing for an hour and a half with the children who showed much praise, I left to return home. As I left, I made a left turn instead of a right turn on Independence and I noticed the wind was really strong. I was jamming out to Lady Gaga’s Poker Face, when out of the blue the hood of my car slammed into the windshield. I screamed at the top of my lungs. Pieces of shattered glass fell, and I felt like everything was moving in slow motion. It was such a surreal feeling. My first reflex was to turn to the right. I couldn’t see anything around me, but I just knew I needed to pull to the side. I parked in the middle of the street in a neighborhood. A trail of mascara fell down my face as I thumped my forehead on the steering wheel a few times to make sure this wasn’t just a nightmare. I couldn’t believe what had just happened.
I then stumbled out of my car. My ultimate mission at this point was to get a hold of my parents, but having no cellphone made circumstances more difficult. There was a gas station across Independence, but it was just too far away, so I decided that maybe ringing the doorbells of the nearby houses could help. I know “stranger danger,” but I was willing to take this chance. I rang the doorbell to the house that I was parked in front of, and the door was wide open. I rang the doorbell three times with no reply. I was so angry, because obviously someone was home. I then went to three other houses with no luck. I felt like I was stranded forever.
My next option was getting the attention of the passing cars. It was 5:30 p.m., and cars were racing by. So my first but not so smart thought was to put out my thumb to get the attention. But after ten minutes of seeing disapproved expressions and no one caring, I decided that trying to hitch a ride maybe wasn’t the best idea. I was still desperate for someone to help me, so I thought that maybe giving the impression that I was dying or completely suffering could get people’s attention. I sat on my knees with my hands waving in the air, with tears sliding down my cheeks yelling “help please.” After about five minutes of cars passing by, an older gentleman made a U-turn and pulled up beside me. He only spoke Spanish so with what I learned in 3 years of Spanish class at school, I tried to say, “Can I borrow your phone?” He understood with my drastic hand signs, and let me borrow it.
I finally got in touch with my mom, but I just couldn’t keep myself calm. My mom’s first thought was that I got into an accident. I told her the whole scenario, and she said she would be right there, which was 20 minutes away from the house. While I waited for my mom to come help me, a few people from nearby houses came to me to see what had happened. One man said he even saw the whole thing happen. I told the man, and then his wife, what had happened, and even how the week before my sun roof was stolen, and I had no phone. The lady then said to me, “Oh honey, you’re cursed. You need prayers and something is after to get you.” That phrase definitely made me freak out even more. She wanted to help, but she made matters worse.
Finally, my mom came to the rescue but that 20 minutes seemed like torture. She gave me a hug and then led the way back home on back streets so I wouldn’t have to be on the main road. My brother kept me company in the passenger seat, but I regret that decision. While I drove back home, every little bump caused glass to fall. My 14-year-old brother thought it was funny, and threw stuff at the almost ready to break glass, and even slammed the door hard, making the glass cave in.
Only 20 long minutes after driving on the back roads with my idiot brother, I made it home and I was safe at last. I was so relieved I wasn’t hurt, because it could have been a whole lot worse.
