Elektra is Dead (or ‘I was in a Car Accident’)

I said I would explain later, and that time has come.

A huge monkey wrench was thrown into my plans because I was in a car accident Tuesday. Nobody was hurt (not badly. I was sore for a few days), but my car is in bad shape. The incident actually inspired my poem for NaPoWriMo day 23 because I named my car Elektra after the Marvel Comics character, but I digress.

I went to visit my Grandma at the nursing home she was recently moved to in Fort Wayne, Indiana. After spending a few hours with her, I left to get ballroom dance lessons from a friend and hang out for a bit afterward. I came to a stoplight on a busy street. Traffic was thick since it was 4:30pm and people were heading home from work. The light turned green and I moved forward. Just past the light, the quasi-SUV in front of me stopped, so I did, too.

There was a crash.

I suddenly found myself sandwiched between two cars. Someone had rear-ended me.

Both of the other drivers were soccer moms driving larger, sturdier vehicles than me (Elektra is a 1998 Ford Escort). The one in front of me said she stopped because of traffic. I couldn’t see past her, so I can neither confirm nor disprove that. The woman behind me said she thought her two-year-old son in the backseat was choking on something, so she looked back to check on him and didn’t realize I’d stopped.

Both of them had fairly minor cosmetic damage to their vehicles, but since I was scrunched between them, I took the brunt. The hood was arched about a foot, the headlights were shattered, and there was a huge dent on the front. The rear bumper was bent at a slight angle. I shut the car off immediately, but after 20-30 minutes of calling and texting, I tried to start it again and it wouldn’t turn over. The damage doesn’t look too bad, but since it’s 15 years old and has 225,000 miles on it, insurance will probably declare it totaled.

Anyway, the two women eventually left but I had to wait for a friend to pick me up and for a tow truck to take my car away. I did hang out with some friends to celebrate a birthday at a Mexican restaurant that night, though.

As usual with me, the gravity of my situation didn’t hit me until later. I’ve been quite frustrated since Tuesday. I get constant calls from the insurance companies involved in the accident (including one where they were running scared to set up a free chiropractor appointment for me even though I wasn’t hurt. They must be afraid I’ll sue). My plans have been forced to change. I’ve had to start looking for a new car. It hasn’t been fun.

What’s ironic was I had been telling people how grateful I was that my car had lasted this long. I’ve had it since 2006. I’ve driven it longer than the 1990 Dodge Daytona I had before that. It probably could’ve gone another 50,000 miles. It was like how God made the Israelites’ sandals not wear out while they were in the wilderness (Deuteronomy 29:5). Now I suddenly find myself in need of a new car.

If you’re the praying type, prayers would be appreciated. Thanks, True Believers!

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