He Loves Me

It was roughly 8:30 p.m. when I was coming home from the Christmas Choir Concert on the 18 of December.  It had rained previously that day and temperatures did a nose-dive to below zero, draping the earth with black ice.

I am a teenager.  
I am invincible.  
I am above the rules of nature.
I am wrong.

I was going up 200 South, one of the largest/longest hills in the P.G. area.  I could handle sliding around in my Vader Wagon, I live in Utah, after all.  I approached the start of the hill.  I got as far as just below Loader Avenue, when Vader couldn't beat the ice any longer.

I was stuck.

I kept my foot on the clutch and the other on the brake.  My e-lights were flashing and my e-brake was up as well.  Keeping two brakes ought to keep me from rolling down the hill, right?  I dialed number two on my speed-dial, which would be my mother.  

"Mom, I'm stuck.  I am by Loader Avenue; could you send dad to come get me?"

Just then, a pair of head-lights comes into view, as a white car comes down the hill.

"Mom, there's a car coming down the hill.  Everything is super icy; I don't think they'll be able to go down straight."

The white car started to spin, careening toward me head on.

They were just about to get on the correct side of the road, when another pair of lights comes down the hill

going top speed.

The second car, a suburban of sorts, catches the tail of the white car,

sending them back toward me.

They were going to hit me from a diagonal angle.  They were going to hit the driver's side-my side.  I was going to have to go to the hospital.  

I probably wouldn't be able to make it out alive.

I am narrating everything that is happening to my mother. 

She is still on the phone.

She hears my screams.

She is waiting for the crunch of metal.

She is waiting for the line to go dead.

The driver in the white car, the car coming toward me, cranks the wheel as hard as they can to the left, hoping to make it onto Loader.  They don't want to hit me; they have a car full of children.  

Their car has come to a halt.  My car, still straight, if moving, could t-bone it.  The distance between Vader and their car is the length of an ordinary cell-phone.  

I never got hit.

I am perfectly fine.

Angels watched over me.

The first thing out of my mouth when everything was still once more, was:

"Mom, He loves me.  He loves me, mom."

What happened in picture form.