At 6:30, I planned to leave my house early enough to get to my friend’s house on time to dye our hair black for homecoming, but not too early where I would be half asleep. After all my school stuff was packed into my book bag, I went out to start my car. When I say “my car” I use the term loosely. In all technicalities, the van was not mine, it was my father’s. However, when my parents bought a new one they passed the old one down to me so I would “have a ride to school.” I left the house according to plan, excited to start junior year homecoming. I hopped into my car, buckled up, and turned my iPod on to “Sparks Fly” by Taylor Swift. I was singing along to the song when the chorus began, until a red pickup truck pulled out in front of me. I had to think fast, but the last thing I remembered was slamming my right foot down on the brake pedal before the collision happened.

The impact did not injure me or the other guy. But surely, it damaged my car and my driving confidence. Even though my morning started out long, I begged my parents to let me still go to school. I know now that I probably should not have gone, but I was determined not to miss the pep rally. You only get so many of those, you know? I wanted to cherish the memory of each one that I went to, and I could not do that if I did not attend this one.

For weeks after my accident, I would refuse to drive anywhere. I would use the excuse, “my accident occurred in the intersection to enter and exit our subdivision. How did you want me to drive through the same spot at least twice a day?” My parents knew as well as me that I only used the excuse because I did not want to face my fear of driving.

After time, I learned that I needed to jump back in the car and start driving again. It was one of those things in life I realized I would not be able to avoid, even though I wanted to. That one spot is the only spot in the entire world that I could not avoid, but after time passed it began to disappear away from my sight and away from my life. I guess you could say I faced my fear because I had to, more than because I wanted to. It’s been said that “time heals all wounds.” Personally, I have come to realize the truth behind that saying after my car crash. However, I would not say it dissolved completely with time; all it did was lessen enough for me to finally grow immune to it.