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Weekly K: Sometimes We Get Lucky

by Kennedy Kiersey, Mirror Staff

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The last time I got lucky, I cried.

Not for the reason you think.

Here’s what really happened…

Last night, I was driving home after dropping my step sister off at her mom’s house and I got into an accident.

It was on the corner of Abbot by Pansophia.

I was at a stop sign, and when I looked both ways I didn’t see any cars so I proceeded to make my turn left.

As I was turning, a big red truck came quickly and crashed into the back of my car.

My first thought was, “Oh my gosh, this is my mom’s car. She is going to kill me.”

Instead of getting out to look at the damage right away, I laid my head on the steering wheel and cried.

The guy who hit me came up to my window asking if I was ok.

I got out and said “I’m so sorry” at least fifteen times.

Two people from a house nearby came out running, one girl in just her socks, to see if everyone was okay.

She informed us that they had call the police just in case something was wrong.

At this point, I had already shed a gallon of tears.

I was glad that the guy didn’t get out of his truck and immediately start screaming at me and calling me an “irresponsible teenage driver.”

He was actually really supportive about the whole situation and when he saw how hard I was crying, he hugged me and told me that everything was going to be alright.

Thank goodness I didn’t get beat up by a grown man!

I called my mom freaking out, hoping she wouldn’t be completely mad at me.

I got her voicemail at least three times before she finally answered.

It’s a good thing I wasn’t dying or anything!

“Mom, I need you. I really need you right now!” I said between sobs.

I gave her my location and hung up with her just as the cops showed up.

They asked for my license and registration and at that moment I realized I didn’t have my license with me.

He took the other paper work and then sat in his car for awhile, leaving me and the other guy standing in the cold.

With me still crying, we started a casual conversation.

I think that was his way to get me to calm down.

It was then that I realized that his daughter was one of my sisters’ friends.

My mom got there and I refused to let her see the damage to her car.

Really, nothing was wrong.

Just a little dent on the side above the bumper.

We waited at least an hour for the cop to make his final decisions.

When he was done, he talked to me and explained how he wasn’t giving me a ticket for the accident, but he had to give me one for not having my license.

Then he said he was marking them as warnings, so I didn’t get any points on my license.

I thanked him and continued crying for at least an hour after I got home.

That night, I got lucky.

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Journalism: Coldwater High School
Weekly K: Sometimes We Get Lucky