11:20 - 01:52
At around 11:20, I left the party I had been at. I had two jelly shots at 7:30pm and when I began driving, I knew I was completely and utterly sober. That’s why I don’t want to blame what happened on me being drunk.
At around 11:49, I ran into something, and unbeknownst to me, my front right tyre got a hole into it.
I kept on driving, even when I could feel my car start leaning towards dangerously the right. That’s why I want to blame all of this on my own stupidity. I thought the car would make it, and that I would get home and get someone to help me change the tyre without my parents ever knowing. What kind of stupid bitch drives at 90km/h when they can feel their car leaning to the fucking right side of the road? Me, that’s who.
At around 12:17, I somehow made it onto the long stretch of country road that leads to my town, miraculously making it through a giant roundabout and about a kilometer of roadworks.
Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang. The awful smell of burning rubber.
My car is crazily amazing and automatically started pulling over to the left before I even told it to. But that was probably because the entire front right wheel had burnt off. Nothing left except for pathetic shreds of rubber and the rim thing. Forgive my lack of car terminology, I honestly have no clue.
At first, all I could think of was “My parents are going to kill me.” But I had no choice but to call them. I didn’t know how to change a tyre, the car was unroadworthy, no matter if I had done it, I couldn’t fix it.
“WHAT??” my mother shrieked and then there was me crying and concern. “We’re leaving now, we’ll be there, we’ll be there.”
And then I sat in my car, warning lights flashing at annoyingly regular intervals, interior lights on, sobbing. Because how lucky was I that it wasn’t the middle of the day, when that road is full of cars travelling at 100 km/h? How lucky that I didn’t cause an accident and end up injuring others and myself? How stupid could I have been to keep driving with a flat tyre? I think this situation would have been trivial if I had just STOPPED and called my parents as soon as I felt that something was wrong.
I tried to call one of my best friends, but she was out clubbing and I knew she probably wouldn’t have been able to hear her phone. I called the other one and woke her up, crying and telling her how stupid I was and how I was the worst driver in existence. She soothed me and told me it would be okay, okay, okay, okay. But even after I told her to go back to sleep, I continued to cry.
My brother called me, asking if I was okay, asking how I felt, asking about the car, telling me that they would all be there soon. Then a car pulled up in front.
The owner looked at my tearstained face, “I just wanted to check to see if you weren’t seriously hurt or anything,” he said kindly and I sobbed and thanked him and told him my parents were on their way. He was the only person that stopped, for the thirty something minutes that I waited. (One day, I want to be that one person that stops and helps the hysterical red p-plater, even if it’s only by offering a comforting word, or just checking on them.) I thought he was so kind.
My parents came, my brother coming straight up to hug me, and my mother holding me and telling me not to cry, my father grumpy but relieved. How absofuckinglutely insane of me to keep driving to try and hide the tyre from my parents. They didn’t even care about the goddamn car. “I don’t care about the car, I care that you’re safe and unhurt,” my mother said into my hair.
We all changed the tyre together, at one thirty, twelve degrees. My legs were freezing, my family were in their pajamas and the cars continued to speed past us.
When we finally got home at 1:52, my father looked at his hands and asked “Is my face black? I think I’ve touched my face!” They were covered in grease. I smiled and hugged him while he patted me awkwardly with his wrists so he wouldn’t dirty my white jacket. My brother slapped me on the back, my mother hugged me again. “Don’t be scared, don’t be scared.”
I have never felt so stupid, so loved, so afraid, so hysterical, so appreciative of my family. My only wish for them now is to sleep deeply and soundly till morning. They deserve the rest, while I deserve to stay awake all night, punishing myself mentally. I didn’t want them to see what I had done to the car. I was an idiot. They don’t even care about the stupid new expensive car.