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Right
It was a day like any other in Seattle; overcast, cloudy, and chilly. I got in my little old
car to go to work. I was an intern at a small local photography studio. I mostly kept to myself. I
really didn’t like my job, my boss was mean, and I knew I had more potential than just getting
coffee, but it would really help me get further if things went well for the next few weeks. Today
there was a meeting where I could showcase a few of my photos if there was time. I decided
to turn right today, I usually go left on my way to work, but today there was a traffic jam, some
type of construction I think, maybe there was an accident. I didn’t pay much attention to it.
As I was driving, I knew I should eat, I usually ate before I left, but today I woke up late. I
stopped at a gas station to get something. I had to hurry I was almost late, with 15 minutes to
get there and it was a 20 minute ride. I fumbled into the gas station, tripped over a pile of
boxes in the middle of an aisle, and grabbed a cup for coffee. I filled it up quickly. Making a
mess all over the counter and getting a small stain on my shirt. What a fantastic start to the
day, I thought. I ran up to the cashier to pay. There were three people in front of me but they
all had one or two items. It was going to be fast. The first two people were together, they must
have been businessmen, they both were wearing suits and had a briefcase in hand. The person
in front of me was a young man; he looked kinda shady, but I didn’t pay much mind. He was
talking to the cahier for a while, I decided to go get a sandwich for lunch. When I got back I
noticed a small object in the mans’ right jacket pocket. The small object was to be a gun. Not to
make a scene, I tried to alert the cashier. My eyes got wide and I shoke my head, looked at the
young man, and then shoke my head again. The cashier didn’t seem to pick up what I was laying
down, and started to check the man out. I set my things down, slowly turned around and
began to creep out, hoping the man wouldn’t notice my absence. The young man whipped
around, pulled out his gun and pointed it in my direction. I froze. He told me to get on the
ground and toss him my wallet. I did. Then he turned to the cahier, “Put all the money from the
cash register this bag, and don’t forget the safe!!” he yelled. The cashier scurried around the
front desk in a panic. He put all the money in the bag like the man had instructed him, and
hurled it over the counter. The young man grabbed the bag and dashed out of the station. I got
up off the floor awkwardly due to my skin tight pencil skirt, and dusted myself off. Then looked
at the cashier.
“Sorry,” he said. “I know you tried to warn me, but I didn’t understand what you were
doing…” He explained.
“No problem, sorry that happened to you. Very unfortunate.” I smiled, looked down,
and then left the gas station. I didn’t have time to talk to the police and give a report. It would
take up to an hour to finish everything. And work started 9 minutes ago. I was officially late. I
ran to my car, and bolted to work.
I was only 4 blocks away. Maybe no one will notice. I thought to myself. I ate my muffin,
it was delightful, which I realized I had not paid for. Now I was 3 blocks away. Stopped a red
light. When suddenly a car came racing down the street out of nowhere, it appeared out of thin
air. It was going probably 15 or 20 over the speed limit. No, no, no. This can’t happen. Not now,
after everything, I thought. I tried to maneuver out of the way before it hit me, backing up and
trying to move to the left lane. I struggled, clutching the steering wheel with all my might,
trying to move it out of the way somewhat. But unfortunately I wasn’t fast enough. It slammed
into the right side of my car. Demolishing my passenger side door, whipping me forward. My
head hit the steering wheel, I felt like a test car dummy running into a brick wall. My chest was
sore from the seatbelt, and my front windshield had shattered all over my lap. Then two cop
cars come flying behind, luckily they managed not to hit me. After they all have left the scene, I
got out of my car, and attempted to walk to the right side. My knees buckled and I fell on the
curb of the right side of the street. It was dirty, surprisingly grimy, a piece of chewed gum was
sticking to my skirt. Great. I crawled over to the right side of my car, the whole passenger side
was dented in. The mirror was scattered over the street, and the rear right tire had fallen off its
axel. It would cost thousands to get it repaired, probably more than the cost of the car itself.
Oh how fantastic. A man walking on the street came up to me, “Are you okay? That hit was
pretty hard.” He said. I looked up at him, my head seared in pain.
“I think so.” I said faintly.
“Want me to call the police?” He asked. I nodded. “Do you want me to stay with you
until they get here?
“Yes, please.” The man sat down next to me and tried to make conversation, but I
wasn’t listening. All I could think about was my head and chest. They both hurt so bad it was all
I could focus on. My whole body ached in pain.
“Would you get my phone out of my car?” I asked. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Sure! I wouldn’t want to just leave you here alone after that.” The man explained.
He then hurried over to my car and searched for my phone, he came back moments later and
handed it to me gently, then continued to ramble on nonsense.
As I waited for the men to come, I noticed a drop of blood had fallen on my shirt. Then
another, and then another. They were getting more rapid. I looked for the source, my legs,
torso, and head. It was my shoulder. My right shoulder. A massive shard of glass had gotten
lodged in it. I couldn’t feel much pain, but I knew I needed to get medical attention. Almost
immediately after I realized, a cop came followed by an ambulance, they stopped and raced
over to me. “Alright tell us what happened, this man will help with your injuries. Are you okay?”
Said a woman cop. I nodded.
“Okay. A car, came down the street. Like so fast! I didn’t know what to do! I tried ta…”
I was in the middle of explaining what happened when I started to get light headed. My vision
stared to tunnel and soon everything went black. Then suddenly I fell to the ground like a tree
that was just chopped down.
When I finally came to, I was in the hospital. They had bandaged me up pretty well and I
could hardly even feel my shoulder from all the pain meds. My mother was sitting in the chair
next to my bed, she must have been my emergency contact. She then explained what had
happened after I passed out. “The doctors said you can leave in a few hours after they know
you’re okay from the all blood loss.” Once the doctors cleared me, my mother dropped me off
at home. She put her arm around mine and half carried half dragged me inside. Then hugged
me, “Goodnight dear, I’ll be over in the morning to help you bandage your shoulder.”
I moseyed into the kitchen, grabbed my favorite mug and filled it with boiling water. I
searched for chamomile in my cabinets. I found the box, took out a bag and put it in the cup. I
added cream and honey, then went upstairs. I took off my dirty clothes. I could see everything
on my white blouse. The coffee from earlier, dirt from the ground of the gas station, and blood
stains from my shoulder. I put on my most comfortable pajamas, and crawled into bed. I had
one voice mail, so I checked it. A message from my boss. Damn, I forgot to call into work. I had
just then remembered. “Kate, you have failed to call in or show up to work today. You are fired!
We have too many other candidates better prepared for this position to consider someone such
as yourself. Goodbye.” Followed by the answer machine’s loud beep. There I sat, in complete
and utter defeat.
It was only then I realized. If only I hadn’t gone right this morning I would have never
been late to work. I would have never been in the gas station that got robbed. I would have
never been at that red light where the car hit me. And I would have never gotten fired. It would
all be different if I had just gone left, why didn’t I just go left? I guess some might call that fate,
or destiny, or perhaps simply bad luck.
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