I have been afraid of cars for the majority of my life. Growing up, I had heard stories and seen videos on how easily your life could be taken while in a car that it scared me just thinking about driving. On my fifteenth birthday, my parents allowed me to start drivers ed, I was obviously terrified. Regardless of my fears and concerns, I agreed to start.

I put it off for the longest time. I had no motivation. Driving was scary and I was not ready to grow up. Months had passed, and I had not touched the course material. I later got an email “You have two months left to complete this course”. What?! I did not know there was a time limit! My parents would kill me if I wasted their money. I got to work. The course was relatively simple, and I finished in plenty of time. By Dec. 28, 2017 I had my permit.

This was getting all too real. I never wanted to drive. I did not even want to get in the car with other teens. What was I going to do? I decided to do nothing. Every time my parents asked if I wanted to go driving I suddenly had a billion things to do. My 17th birthday was coming up and I still had no motivation to drive. My parents were getting tired of it. How are you gonna drive to college? Bla bla bla. They had a good point. Plus, it would be nice to have the freedom to go anywhere I wanted, whenever I wanted. All of a sudden, my schedule cleared up. I started my drivers lessons and was finished before I knew it. On my 17th birthday, I woke up to a 2012 Toyota Corolla with a big pink bow. I was excited and admittedly a bit scared. My mom and I took it for a drive. I immediately fell in love. With that, I was off. I had my license the next month. The first day Aug, 19 2018, I drove my sister to school for the first time. Everything was going smoothly, my sister was following the no talking rule (but unfortunately not the no eating rule), and we made it there and back in one piece. Phew! I was a driving woman, and I announced it loud and proud. Why was I so afraid of something so easy? Unfortunately, later that day I was reminded. I was sitting at a stop light, on my way home from a from a friend’s house and, I noticed the light turned green. I started to take my foot off the brake when all of a sudden a car came speeding through the intersection. Luckily, I remembered to look both ways before going. I finished my drive home in a shocked and dazed manner but decided to put it behind me. A few days passed and nothing else happened. I was fitting in with the driving world quite nicely. A few days later, I was driving home from a sleepover with the radio blasting. In no time at all, I was pulling into my driveway. “FRIENDS” by Marshmello was playing, and I was singing at the top of my lungs. I noticed my dad’s car was right in front of my spot in the garage. It was going to be a tight fit. I had an awful feeling, but I kept going anyways. I slowly crept into the space, my foot hovering over the brake. I got to where I needed to be and pushed the break to the floor. All of the sudden my car lurched forward and I heard a large crash. My foot had slipped and slammed on the gas. I just sat there. Mouth open. “FRIENDS” was still blasting, but I made no effort to turn it off. I was in shock. I finally came to my senses and put my car in reverse. A horrible scraping noise overpowered my radio. I turned it off. I still did not get out of the car. What had I done? How bad was it? Was I okay? What were my parent going to think? I am never going to drive again.

I saw my mom and dad out of the corner of my eye. I still was not moving. My dad looked at the car, at me, and then back at the car. My mom motioned for me to get out. Nobody said a word. I looked around, my front left headlight was shattered, my bumper was falling off and my hood was dented and scraped. There was a small hole in the garage where my car once was. My mom asked me what had happened. My dad said nothing. I started grabbing pieces of wood and throwing them in the recycling bin while tears streamed down my face. My parents went inside. The second I walked through the door my mom told me to do the dishes. Are we going to pretend like this did not happen? My dad still was not speaking to me. What had happened started to sink in. How was I going to pay for this? Why did I not stop when I started getting nervous? What if my foot had slipped at a stop light? I started freaking out. My mom told me to take out the recycling. My dad still said nothing. I did not understand! Why were they not as scared as I was? I could have gotten seriously injured or worse. Did they not care? Maybe they were mad. I called them into the living room so I could apologize. I told them I was sorry, and I was scared. I knew they were mad but I needed my parents right then. I needed them to tell me everything was okay and they would take care of everything. I wanted to be their baby again. They told me everything was going to be okay, we would come up with a payment plan and the only thing that mattered is that nobody got hurt.

That made me feel better, but the accident has stayed with me. With the car, the responsibility of driving, I am closer to being an adult than I was before. When I was a child, all I wanted was to be older but now, the older I get, the more I miss the carefree days of childhood. I miss my parents driving me around, planning my appointments and making me breakfast, lunch and dinner. I miss not having to worry about driving, high school and college. Maybe I was never scared of driving, I was just afraid of growing up.