I awake from my usual car nap as I continue to lie down in the backseat, taking the slim chance of falling back asleep, but I sit up groggily after my mom's second call, and I’m met with the semblance of a family that reignites for a few moments. My mom's few funny remarks as an effort to wake me up, and my dad’s chuckle, allow us to forget the pride and tensions between us. For a fleeting moment, we’re whole again. 

Then a “Bang!” Then again, "bang!"...three…four hits. I remember seeing my mom’s brown hair moving erratically from left to right, my dad’s strained voice calling for help, breaking in a way I’ve never heard from him, he continued to ask someone, anyone, "what's happening?" It rings in your eyes differently when said helplessly, desperately in your own language. “Please stop” became a trembling chant as the blurred images of the highway whirled around me. Then everything stopped.

Always put your seatbelt on. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the windiest night of my life underneath a plastic cover of the hospital at 5 am, for it was the only shelter my dad and I could find as we waited for an Uber, but the colder fact was I hadn’t seen my mom since the ER. Always put your seatbelt on because you'll never be too sure if the car accident you pass by on the I-95 that caused all the morning traffic will be you. Put on your seatbelt so another person won't have to hold on tight to the handle of an Uber till her knuckles are white, scared the bangs of impact and suffocating smoke will replay. Always put your seatbelt on, so it won't be too late. 

To this day, I haven't laid down in a backseat to take a nap. One-hour-long naps are replaced by interrupted 15-minute nodding as I hover my arm over my mom, for she doesn't need another spine and colon surgery. And a clenched fist suffocates my heart when I pass the highway sign I had to read to the 911 operator, or when I come across pictures that show our wrecked car reflecting the chaotic colors of blue and red, the ambulance sirens recall once again, and the heaviness weighs a ton.

A message to everyone, whether you've haven't gotten your permit or if you're a "professional" driver, in which there is no such thing as if there was, then there would be no accidents, as one may be safely driving, but those around them are not necessarily the same, and that's what makes the biggest difference. 
One text message, one loss in a heated argument, one moment in time, makes all the difference. One second is all it takes to ruin everything and everyone. Was making that important business call more valuable than the life that led you to it and the future you'll prosper in? How many more lives need to succumb to darkness just because of a person who wants to brag their Lamborghini? How many more people need to suffer the consequences of other people's "fun" racing and pranks with "friends?" How many souls leave their loved ones because someone decides to drive after bottles of beer or wine?

If my dad didn't hit that signaling lever, if he didn't switch to the left lane, would it have happened? I'll never know, and I don't have to. But I was given an answer. A year later, after the first car accident, a second one happens. Thanks to the Lord, it was only a minor collision. But the reactions each one of us had, me, my parents, were as if it was the first one all over again. The images of my mom unable to move from her seat began to surface as it pushed the dinner I just had out onto the car floor. The strained voice of my dad rang once again into my ears, and I questioned what we did wrong this time. But we didn't. No matter how safe one can be, we don't have control over others. But the best we can do is to SLOW DOWN. If my dad had been any faster, it might have been another trip back and forth to the hospital, but this time, my mom would never come home. What infuriated me more was when I faced the man who hit us; he reeked of alcohol. I watched the dashcam over and over, but after the 3rd time, I could no longer pay attention to the video but a question kept replaying in my head instead. "Why do people drunk drive?"

We may not have found the person who caused trauma, pain, and endless hours in the hospital, and coming home to a house without a mom to greet me for the first few darkest days of my life, but I found something more important amidst all of that. Awareness. 

We need to become aware of something as miscellaneous and ordinary as driving. Till this day, it truly fascinates me how some people are unable to comprehend that their lives and others are at stake as soon as someone is behind that wheel, for it is an ambiguous weapon that either makes or breaks the future of someone's life. It can be the reason someone makes it in time for the most pivotal interview of their career, or it can be the reason they can't-and never will. 

We need to become the leaders of the vast kingdom of roads we have, not conquer, not rule, but lead with carefulness and awareness.