Droplets of water cascade down my windshield, blurring my vision just like the tears that stained my cheeks 365 days ago. In this object I use to travel I feel contradicted. How could I still enjoy this feeling of freedom when I know it caused me so much pain? A recollection of memories reminds me some things are not in our hands. Other people will make decisions that not only affect them but also you.

The choices in life we make shape who we are. I made the choice to drive home a different way that day. That decision has impacted me and a scar reminds me that it was real. What happened that day was out of my control, but the way I let if affect my life is in my hands.

May 13th. Friday the 13th. Before this day I was never superstitious, even today I don’t know if I am. I just know that luck is not always in our favor. I felt a smash of pressure as my car spun down off the road into an embankment. Window shattered. Arm splotched with ruby. Shards snuck its way into my shirt. Abrasions here and there. The dashboard had collapsed on me after the impact of the hit. I came to the realization that my left leg was unable to move. With all my might I reached for my cell phone that flew to the ground only minutes before. I knew what to do; call mom. I calmly informed her I had been in a car accident. I said I couldn’t see much blood. Little did I know that my body had gone into extreme shock due to the emergency brake being impaled through my lower left leg.

The ambulance came speedily, along with the fire trucks. The object transformed from a vehicle into torn up bits and pieces by the jaws of life. A tourniquet was required to make sure I did not lose too much blood and eventually my leg. The paramedic said, “This will be one of the most painful feelings you will ever endure”. They were not lying.

While in the waiting room, as the nurses checked me out. I simply asked my mom, “So how was your day?”. Even though the accident was horrific, this was my way of feeling normal. I strived and craved normalcy for the following months to come. I did not want to be treated differently or be seen as broken.

As each 13th of the month passes by I reminded myself of how far I have made it. I take those days to reflect on the strength I endure to wake up and keep fighting. I fought to regain bits of myself I lost that day until the foreign person in the mirror became familiar again.

I have a story to tell now, like it or not, that shaped me. Putting life into perspective of the chance that I could have lost my leg or not even be here changes things. It makes me really appreciate the little things in life and the positive people I surround myself with. With each stride I make efforts to better myself. I could look at this accident as the destruction of my being, or as a blessing in disguise. As much as I wish I could undo what occurred that day, I can’t. I went through layers of guilt and regret and blaming myself for taking that route home. I thought that there was a way I could have stopped the whole thing from happening. In reality, as much as I wish I could have changed things, that is just not the way life works. I cannot turn back the clock. I know that it is impossible to alter the past, so the only way I would cope with what happened that day was to gain acceptance. Writing became my crutch to recovery.

I may still find my scar on my leg as unbeautiful and deem it as a flaw, but it is part of me. With every day that passes the feelings become easier. The scar is a reminder that ‘this too shall pass’. Whether I like it or not, this traumatic accident occurred to open my eyes. It showed me what really matters in life. I now try to live each day to the fullest, since who knows what will happen tomorrow.