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As I Recovered, 2005

October 16, 1988, turned to prose 09-12-05

I was supposed to be saving a life by turning the wheels and avoiding an accident. Well, I did. I turned the wheels and that saved the other driver’s life. Since my wheels were turned I was pushed into oncoming traffic so another car could hit me. I think the first car hitting me was enough, but while we’re at it, let’s get someone else to hit the car as well. Well, as I was saying, since another car could (and did) hit me they decided while they hit my car that they would push me over 100 feet.
That’s what I got for saving a life.
In the hospital, after I got out of the coma, no one even visited me. Oh, I know my family was there and it would have been more depressing if they couldn’t have been there for me, but when I say no one visited me, I mean no on that did this to me visited me. Not the people who hit me, not the guy who’s life I saved. None of those people even attempted to pay me back. For my car, or my time, or my coma, or me feeling that this is natural, for me being nice. I have the physical scars and the emotional scars from that accident and from that day. And no one ever apologized to me for the pain they caused No one even visited me as I recovered.


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