On my first day of first grade, I did not go with my dad to drop off my brother and his friends at their middle school. I woke up five minutes too late to make it to the car on time. It was seven thirty-five in the morning, the sun shining brightly into my room. I skipped happily from my bedroom to the living room in search of my mom. 

“Did they leave yet?” I asked with concern on my face.

“Yes, they didn’t want to wake you.” 

“MOM! I wanted to drive him to school like I do every day! And I love seeing all of his friends!” 

Realizing there was nothing my mom and I could do, I sat down sadly for breakfast. By the time I finished, I forgot about my frustration and skipped happily to my room to prepare for the day. I came back out to my mom on the phone, crying and looking very concerned. Being six years old, I dismissed this, walked over to the kitchen, and prepared my lunchbox for the day. 

I realized that there were no snacks left, walked over to my mom, and started tugging on her shirt. Although she seemed distressed on her call, I repeatedly complained, “Mom! MOM!” 

She finally ended the call and wiped the tears off her face. She picked me up gently and explained that I wouldn’t be attending school that day. Confused and upset, I asked why. She put me down with tears in her eyes. 

“I can’t tell you everything right now, but please go in the car. I am going to take you to my friend’s house. I love you.” 

She smiled at me through her tears and drove me over to our family friend’s house. After kissing me goodbye and whispering to her friend, she drove off quickly. I walked in obliviously and started playing with some toys that my mom’s friend took out for me. At around eight at night, my mom came to pick me up. It was raining loudly, and I ran to the doorway and embraced her.

She drove me home silently and sat me down. She told me something happened earlier in the morning when my dad was dropping off my brother and his friends at school. She explained that a car hit ours. I fidgeted in my seat and asked, “Are Dad and Archit okay? Why aren’t they home yet?” 

With tears dripping down my mom’s face, she explained that it was a bad car crash and my dad was not doing well. She told me that, luckily, my brother had only a broken leg and a bruised arm and would be home later in the week. She then gave me the bad news about my dad, who was going in and out of consciousness and had suffered a terrible back injury. It was as if a storm had interrupted our happy-beach-day life. Suddenly, I started crying and my mom held me for a while as we cried together. 

The next day, we got up early and somberly drove to the hospital. We first went to see my brother. As I walked down the hospital halls and smelt the bleach and sorrow, I felt uneasy and clung to my mom’s shirt. We greeted my brother with a new remote-controlled car, and I hugged him gently. Then, we had to go to a different wing of the hospital to see my father. As we walked down the halls to the ICU, I asked my mom, “Can he come home now?” 

My mom stayed quiet as we approached his room. As we entered, I started crying at the sight of the many tubes and bandages attached to him. My mom picked me up and walked to his bed to pray for him. Later, my mom called her friend to take me to her house, where I stayed for a few nights. It was the first time I had dealt with a traumatic family event. My dad eventually came home, but he had to stay in bed for a very long time. He later got diagnosed with osteoporosis, leaving him with a permanent back impairment. Fortunately, my brother was on crutches for only two months. The storm took a while to die down, and unbeknownst to me, it took a lot longer for the sky to clear for my parents.

My brother’s friends got away from the crash with minor scratches and bruises. The crash involved three cars: the one that initially ran the red light and hit my dad, my dad’s car, and another car which my dad ended up crashing into after being hit. The owner of the first car had no insurance or money, so the third car decided to sue my dad instead for the damages. On top of this, the family of one of my brother’s friends also decided to sue my father, much to the shock of our family. It felt like being hit in the head by one of your team players after being knocked down by the opposing team. 

The entire case ended up being resolved a few years later, with the third car and my brother’s friend receiving roughly 1,000 dollars for their damages and injuries. If this situation taught me anything, it’s that the justice system is a joke and we really shouldn’t trust anybody. It turns out that multiple lawyers had been trying to screw us over by encouraging their clients to sue us solely for the fact that we had insurance and money - unlike the other cars and families. Although we remained relatively guiltless for the accident, we still ended up losing money and paying our insurance at an increased rate for a while. As for the family of my brother’s friend, they attempted to apologize by blaming their lawyer after the case was closed, but it’s safe to say they’re no longer on our team anymore. 

After the storm cleared, we became increasingly wary about who we let into our lives and how close they remained to us. Members of our friend group began turning against us as rumors spread from the family that sued us, and eventually, we decided to leave the group behind. The people who chose to stick around (for example, the family who took care of me while my mom spent long nights at the hospital) helped us to realize who our true friends were. This ordeal allowed my family to become closer due to the understanding that we would almost always have each others’ best interests in mind. Although friendships are important, familial bonds tend to have more of an everlasting and trusting nature. Despite the “justice” system proving to be inherently unfair, we realized that they could not impact the strength of our relationship with one another. 

Some people may claim that the justice system can be fair in some cases, but the majority of the time, the public opinion on a court case is neglected. Although we have representation in other areas of the government, the court of law tends to have minimal representation, with most of it relying on the randomly selected jury. Often, lawyers and judges are after making the most amount of money rather than defining and following what it means to be “just.” With this ordeal, I saw this play out in my own life and began wondering how many others suffered from our unjust political system. Although I am not saying that our case is fully representative of every court case or even every lawyer/judge, I believe that the justice system needs a reformation to prioritize sufferers and unfair punishment before acknowledging the monetary aspect of things.

If it weren’t for the witnesses of the crash who testified in court, our family could have suffered a lot more from this court case. Many people had it out for us, and it was the first time we were genuinely worried for our futures. We realized that the justice system was biased, money-hungry, and powerful despite being unfair. Looking back on the situation, I think about how fortunate my brother and father, especially, were to have survived - and how lucky I am for sleeping in an extra five minutes.