Personal Narrative Essay On My First Car

It’s August thirty-first, a comfortable eighty-two degrees with a crisp breeze. I’m in my two month old car, in fact my very first car. A two-thousand-fifteen Kia soul with color sparkling bright, as if it was titanium steel that has just been polished, equipped with two tone hounds tooth interior and the infamous new car smell followed by a hint of vanilla. I was driving down Dallas Acworth Highway at thirty-five miles per hour, just starting to crest the top of a small hill. Windows down, revealing a cool but gentle breeze, as the sun was kissing my face, it was if I were a dandelion seed being carried by the wind. Radio blaring Turn Down For What by Lil John, with the base buzzing causing the soul to shake. Feeling caught up in the moment

In response to the immediate left hand turn, I slammed on my breaks to prevent an accident. It’s surprising how fast you can transition from one moment to the next. Luckily, I stopped just in time to avoid hitting the Toyota, or so I thought. Just as I was about to let my foot off the break, I heard loud foreign sounds. The first sound was a loud squeal, like someone has stepped on a dog’s tail. The second sound sounded like a roll of thunder forewarning an oncoming storm mixed with a crunch. I cautiously looked around and started to smell a burning smell, as if someone was burning a pile of leaves. Starting to think to myself, “What is

The thoughts were water rushing down the rapids or in my case into my mind. Is the “Other person injured?”, “How am I going to pay for this?”, “Is my dad going to be mad?” I get out of the car and call 911. After I stop shaking I give the dispatch lady my name, location, and description of each car and what time it occurred, 4:02 pm. An average sized man gets out of a dark green well used Chevy Tahoe and says “I’m sorry are you alright?” I say yes and we exchanged names. His name was Chris. As we waited for the Georgia state patrol I called my dad apologizing and trying to keep from breaking down into