The Thanksgiving of Horror

There are eight billion humans roaming this earth, each with a story to tell. Every moment defines what occurs thereafter, and from the instant you are born, your story begins. Throughout each narrative, many expect to have hardships and trials, but there are just some events that are too unpredictable to even imagine.

“Beep. Beep. Beep.” I woke to the sound of a heart rate monitor echoing in my eardrums. I shot open my eyes and let out a slight gasp. I furiously scoped the scene only to realize that I was lying in a hospital bed. I attempted to verbalize my curiosities, but I received nothing but static. Thoughts raced in my mind and ricocheted from side to side. Why can’t I speak? How did I get here? Abruptly interrupting my train of thought, a raspy voice whispered, “Hannah? Hannah, how are you? It’s me, Evan.” My oldest brother.

Movement was restricted, limiting my ability to shift my body towards him. So I moved my eyes to the left of me and noticed his melancholy expression. Tears filled his waterlines, his lips quivered, and lines of stress were seared on his forehead.

November 22, 2018: Thanksgiving Day. My parents, my brother, Michael, and I woke up at five in the morning to head to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to see my grandmother for the holidays. Weariness followed me like a shadow with every movement I made. The drive would be about eight hours long, so it was crucial that we left on time in order to arrive for the grand dinner. A couple of hours went by, and I decided to make myself comfortable. I unbuckled my seatbelt, extended my legs, popped in my headphones, and grabbed a snack. I unlocked my attention from the chokehold that Gilmore Girls had on me and peered out my window.

Cliffs made up of columnar quartz, and sandstone painted the highway. “Dad, where are we now?” I inquired. “We are in West Virginia. Almost there, sweetie,” he replied. Shortly after, I noticed my father creeping his way through a Twizzler wrapper with the hopes of indulging in his favorite candy. However, nothing of that sort would occur.

I turned my face to look at the scenery for a split moment and I looked back up to find my dad coughing hysterically. “BANG!” His head hit the steering wheel and he was seemingly unconscious. I began screaming, “Dad?! DAD! WAKE UP!!” Moments later, I succumbed to static and darkness.

Driving 70 miles per hour with cruise control on the highway, my father choked and passed out at the wheel. My mother attempted to take control of the car but was unable to. The car crashed head-on into a tree leaving the four of us in critical condition.

My brother, so young and undeserving of his injuries, had the most complications. Immediately, the doctors performed open heart surgery on him to place a stent to ensure that he would live and breathe. He had permanent nerve damage in his dominant hand, the right, and had to learn to use his left hand for everything. He had a broken arm, broken legs, shattered ribs, three feet of his intestine removed, a hernia from the force of the crash, seizures, a neck brace, and so on. I felt so helpless and selfish as I had the least amount of injuries. I broke my femur and had to get surgery to get a permanent metal rod connected to my femur and two screws in my knee. Additionally, I required a blood transfusion due to my extreme loss of blood.

INJURIES

Father:

Punctured knee
Broken heels
Punctured lip
Broken ribs

Mother:

Broken sternum
Shattered ribs
Broken heel

Within a week at the hospital in West Virginia, I returned home with my oldest brother, Evan. I was surprised to see that WCNC Charlotte News had gotten a hold of our accident. Amazingly, the community of Fort Mill, my hometown, and the surrounding areas had come together to assist me and my family. My teachers from Fort Mill High School came to my house to make sure I did not get behind, and family and friends brought meals and donations. It was completely unexpected, but something I will forever be grateful for.

A couple of months after the accident, the rest of my family was cleared to come home. It was a reunion like never before. Tears shed as we all embraced for the first time in what seemed like forever. The crash left us all with unforgettable trauma and PTSD, along with physical restrictions. I cannot speak for the rest of my family involved in the event, but the accident is something that I continue to deal with daily. It is something that I choose to bury, but also something that brought all of my goals and aspirations in life to the forefront of my mind. The vulnerability and pain I experienced is something I would never want to relive. Therefore, I have chosen to lock the experience away, although it may trickle out every now and then through frustration.

I realized I have so much potential and so much hope for my own future that I cannot waste every waking moment on things that do not matter in the grand scheme of things. Fighting for my life and almost losing everything that I love helped me understand that I need to fix my selfishness and worries. As cliche as it sounds, you do not know what you have until it is actually gone. The accident is a reflection of a sense of brokenness within me. Daily, I think about how low I felt physically and mentally during the event. However, I reshaped those emotions into motivation to go after my dreams and succeed in life.