HOW TRAGEDY GAVE ME A WAKE-UP CALL

I tried to hurry before my mother noticed what I was doing. I turned the key in the ignition as my younger sister climbed into the backseat. Looking both ways, I pulled out of the driveway to meet up with our friends to go four-wheeling in the backroads that, at the time, were filled with mudding trails, tall pines, and no homes. In the blink of an eye, I awoke to hearing people all around me with a red car in front of my face. There were ambulances, people, and cop cars everywhere. A paramedic rushed to help get us out as my brother lifted the bike to move it. Everything was a blur. I blacked out after two paramedics strapped me into a hospital bed and put me in a neck brace. We were in a major all-terrain vehicle accident. I smashed into that red car head-on and there were dark swerve marks imprinted at the intersection of our street.

I woke up in a hospital emergency room. I suffered a knee and leg injury and my sister fractured her back and broke her collar bone. Nurses were trying to calm us as I heard my sister yelling for me in the next room. “A dog jumped out of the ditch trying to bite your legs. You had a panic attack and blacked out seconds before you turned onto the main road,” said one of the nurses. I was in a leg brace and crutches for six weeks and my sister suffered severe injuries that, because of my actions, could no longer play sports and had to take it easy as a result of the displacement of her disc, which took months to heal. My mother had to help her with ordinary tasks. Watching my youngest sister suffer brought tears to my eyes. I wrote about the agony every morning before leaving for school.

I never drove another ATV again. Seeing one causes flashbacks and scarcity. I am legally blind and this accident was a wake-up call reinforcing the rule that I cannot drive a motorized vehicle. If I wanted to four-wheel, I needed to have someone accompany me who has a valid driver’s license. My acuity is not strong enough to read road signs, see pedestrians, read license plates, or even see who’s in the front seat of a car when passing by. I learned that everyone can do something, but cannot do everything. This six-week healing process brought me back to a life of exploring my own creativity with words. I wrote, wrote, and wrote. I knew that writing was an exciting, adventurous alternative way to occupy my time since four-wheelers posed a danger to me. That was a tough lesson to learn.

I started going for rides again in 2016 when my parents purchased a mule. It fits four people and is safer than a standard ATV. I love bringing my camera, packing lunch, and going for a nice scenic ride. When we travel to the highlands, we visit Cape Clear, which is one of my favourite places in Cape Breton besides the Cabot Trail. Although I will never drive one, I can still enjoy the ride as a backseat passenger on the lookout for animals, trees, flowers, rivers, and scenes to photograph. I was fifteen years old when we crashed into a car. It took fifteen years for me to regain the confidence and courage to embark on outdoor adventurous all-terrain activities once more.

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