The “disappearing road,” as most called it, was a trail of asphalt that ascended to what seemed like Mount Everest, then immediately dropped. Teenagers who wanted to take to the air rocketed up the trail, and then flew when they reached this peak in the road. It was located a good twenty minutes away from my home; therefore, I had never experienced the airborne sensation. Nathan, who was a friend of mine, had traveled on it many times, and had just finished telling me of previous exploits on the “disappearing road” when he and other certain people were sent home from work. Disappointment hit my stomach like a car that had just hit the asphalt as I watched him and others leave.
I knew where he was going. The party invitation had been extended to everyone, but I was still at work and could not attend. This Halloween would be different from previous years. This Halloween I would not be trick-or-treating with my friends or even sitting in the church parking lot with my mother helping hand out candy to young trunk-or-treaters. No, this Halloween I would be trapped inside a fast food restaurant taking orders, putting them together, and handing out treats to those who were silly enough to come trick-or-treating through the drive-thru.
Children whom I knew came through with their parents in hopes of receiving a special treat. I handed them their prizes throughout the night and watched them drive away, as they licked their cones and laughed over their performance.
Customers stopped coming and the bell finally rang for the place to close. Tired workers cleaned, filled, and put things in their proper place. I finally stepped out into the night air, which stung my nose with every breath inhaled. Despite the fact that I was now living a grown-up version of Halloween, tomorrow was a new day and I most likely would never think of my Halloween disappointment ever again. I walked silently through the chill of night toward my vehicle, but turned when my name was called.
The two figures moving toward me expressed the fact that they needed rides to certain destinations, one of which was home. One of them, however, wanted to see if the Halloween party was still going on. That would be fun. However, my home was another twenty minutes away. The delay of my return home would be unacceptable even with a phone call to my parents.
I dropped my friend off at the party and watched her tread across the lawn toward the house. Cars were pulling away and I wondered whether I should wait to take her home. After watching her enter the house, I pulled away and continued my task in taking the other individual home, paying no mind to a car that pulled out right behind me.
Smashed pumpkins littered parts of the street. A strange sadness swept through me and I desperately wanted to go back to the house and party like everyone else. Nathan would possibly still be there, and we could talk some more.
I suddenly disliked very much the boy with whom I was driving. An odd bitterness surpassed the melancholy feeling. Perhaps if he had not asked me to take him home, I could have gone to the party like everybody else. However, these feelings were locked deep in the recesses of my heart, and they knew better than to come to the surface. The boy instructed me to turn right onto the next street, and I did so. The boy thanked me for the ride as we pulled up to his house, and exited my pathetic looking van. I wrenched the car into drive.
I eased the car forward a bit, but a familiar sight out of the corner of my eye caused me to stop. Nathan smiled and waved at me from his car. My heart leaped into my throat, and I could not help but grin and excitedly wave back. He pulled in front of me as I threw the car back into park. Nathan jogged back to my car, and I opened the door and smiled. I wanted to tell him how excited I was that he had found me, but he spoke first, asking me if I wanted to go on a ride with him. “I could take you on that road I was telling you about,” he suggested.
Instantly, worry swelled in my throat. My parents told me not to be alone with him anymore. I ignored feelings of unease and concern and smiled once again. Nodding, my brain worked vigorously to devise some sort of plan. If it was around ten o’ clock, I would make sure that the ride would not last more than half an hour, and I would easily be home by eleven o’ clock. Eleven might be pushing it, though. But I can just tell my parents that work got out late.
I followed Nathan to his home where I would leave my car while we went on the ride. As much as I tried to erase the guilty and troubled feelings, they kept penciling themselves onto the paper of my mind. Something might happen. Remember what my parents told me… remember what my parents told me…
Nathan and I talked, and that seemed to calm me down, but not completely. There was still an urging that engraved the words obedience and disobedience into my brain. I found it hard to have a normal conversation with one of my closest friends because these words and feelings would not let me be.
The Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack that Nathan had turned on seemed to create the perfect background music as we pulled into a gravel parking lot; it was calm, yet eerie. Just as we shot from the parking lot, however, the music heightened and became the backdrop for a completely different scene. Something was about to happen. As the music became faster and louder, the car picked up speed traveling down the mountain.
We were going too fast. It finally hit me as the side of the hill came closer… closer… and even more so… and I knew that the peak of the “disappearing road” would no longer be the exciting or frightening part of the drive. Nathan turned the wheel and hit the brakes to make the turn, but the loose gravel prevented the car from doing so. As the little car ran up onto the hillside, everything seemed to happen in slow motion, although it was blurred. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself as the car started to flip. A sharp sudden pain made me realize that my hand had found its way out the broken window and was being crushed by the car. I yanked my hands close to my body and formed a fist under my chin to avoid any more injury. The car finally came to rest on its roof and Nathan and I hung from our seatbelts.
The music had stopped. The air was quiet. Even the chirping crickets had been frightened into silence. Nathan finally spoke. “Are you okay?”
I muttered a silent, “Uh huh,” but that was not enough to satisfy him.
“No! Are you okay?”
I muttered again, as firmly as I could at the time, that I was fine. Silence rested upon us. We were left alone, each one to his or her own thoughts. The thought of how I would usually love to have a story to tell people at school instantly came to my mind. As much as I loved storytelling, and as much as I loved being the center of attention with a story, I wished with all my heart that this incident had been a dream. Unfortunately, I knew that it was not. My parents are going to kill me. This thought weighed most heavy on my mind.
“Can you get out?” I finally asked. I tried to unbuckle myself, but my weight had jammed the belt. I pushed on the ceiling of the car to relieve the pressure, and my head soon came into immediate contact with the ceiling. I then tried to get out through the shattered window. Fear struck me as I realized that I could not manage it.
No, Jessica, I thought to myself. You must get out. You may have to hurt yourself or get yourself dirty, but you must get out. Scraping my body against the pieces of shattered glass and gravel, I finally managed to crawl out of the car, meeting Nathan as I stood up. I tried to retain my cheerful self, but to no avail. I was shaking—not from cold but rather from shock—and realized that even without a coat the chilly October air was rather warm.
A man’s voice was heard and the bouncing orb of a flashlight could be seen moving toward us. Nathan expressed the fact that everyone was fine and that we were just shaken up a bit.
After calling Nathan’s father, the man was going to let us have our wish by staying outside and waiting for him to come, but the flashlight beam soon fell onto my blood soaked hand. Nathan gasped, and the man seized my arm and led me to his home. Embarrassment almost overtook my shock and guilt, but as I was seated, I realized that guilt would exceed all feelings that I would ever consider.
What had I done? What had moved me to do something that resulted in this? I was not the kind of person to lie to my parents and deliberately disobey them; and yet, that is exactly what I had done. Surprisingly, I was not afraid to face my parents and tell them the story, for nothing could make me feel worse than I did at that moment. They would be angry, yes, but I had tortured myself enough. What kind of person have I become? Why did I ignore the feelings and urges I felt before? Tears flooded down my cheeks. I had known that what I was doing was wrong, but the influence of a boy had driven me to do otherwise.
Regret and remorse can be terribly painful things. They can, however, be used in humbling oneself. I would not wish the feelings of remorse upon anyone, but the humbling influence upon the soul was something I was appreciative to have. Despite my feelings of guilt and shame, the accident would forever be impressed upon my mind as an adventure.
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