"Mike, that's the second accident we've seen today," my neighbor commented as we drove to school. It was a frigid January morning when we were forced out of our homes like a cattle drive, all because the superintendent refused to believe ice was dangerous. As her shiny, maroon Grand Am chugged up the ice, (with its tires working three times harder than normal, screeching on the slippery ice like nails down a chalkboard), we slowly passed two accidents caused by the diamond-clear glass that covered the roads.The vehicle slowly inched up the hill of 72nd and Cornhusker. The streets reflected the sun into my eyes, causing that strange blue haze that you see when you stare at a light bulb. It was as if the glaring sun was warning us to huddle back in our caves, for we knew not the danger that waited for us in the wild clear yonder. The bold automobile slithered up the bluff, which played us like a hiker on Mt. Everest. At the climax of the defeated mountain, we noticed two vehicles sitting in our lane, like obstacles, blocking our path to our unwanted destination. Calmly, we strolled downhill as I slowly but firmly applied my foot to the brake, making note to apply it early so as not to get caught in a dangerous situation. Suddenly, the brakes locked, and we were jolted like a child on a roller coaster, our bodies thrown forward faster than we wanted.Pulling my foot off of the brakes that mocked our situation, I went to turn into the right lane, but, as if our time hadn't been fun enough, the back wheels jumped. Our car was sent back and forth at the rear like a trout sifting its way through a polluted river. We ended up aimed directly at the cars we were trying to avoid, which by this point had begun to creep slowly forward, possibly noting the steadily moving vehicle pointed at them! At this point, we were both afraid for our lives. However, knowing that this was not a time to panic, I kept my cool and attempted to follow the rules that I had learned. I let go of the brake, and began to move slowly into the other lane, but this only made it worse. We whipped around like a merry-go-round on steroids and made a 270E turn, ending up perpendicular to the road that we had just challenged. The car rolled backward up onto the median, and the on-coming cars dodged us as if a deadly disease. As soon as all the cars passed, we pulled back into the road and "got back on the horse," so to speak. When I saw the endless space of teenagers and cars, I knew we had finally arrived at the school parking lot, and my heartbeat slowed to about forty thousand beats per second! I could feel my pulse as it bounced through my body like a pinball. That day was the worst driving experience of my life.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.