She was beautiful and I may have led to her death
I’m a safe driver. But when I was running behind unsure if I was going to make it on time, of course I went faster than needed.
I got there on time, exactly. Getting there safely secured in my mind that I am invincible and driving fast isn’t that big of a risk. Right?
When I left, I remembered how thrilling it was to drive fast, under the pressure of a ticking hand. So, on my way home, I drove fast.
This time was the same as any other, in almost every way. Same road, same music, same time – just a little faster.
I’m a safe driver.
But not this time.
I was blasting music to sing along to and speeding, way more than I am comfortable with on windy Vermont roads. The straight part of this road is coming up, I tell myself. I’m preparing to try to hit a speed I’ve never gone before, ready to push on the gas pedal.
I tell myself this is safe, other people do it, a calculated risk. As the road curves to the right before the straightaway I see something brown in my right eye, something beautiful.
A deer is in a bush on the side of the road. A stunning deer, with butterscotch fur and white speckles across its body. I press on my brakes. It’s not in the road, so I will just drive past.
But I scared it rounding the curve as fast as I did and it jumped into the middle of my lane.
I didn’t swerve.
I felt a small impact and heard a thunk, then the deer was flying over my windshield.
I didn’t see where it landed.
I kept driving.
I turned off my music because I didn’t feel like singing anymore. I looked for a place to pull off and I parked in the middle of a dirt driveway, and I just sat there for a minute trying to process what just happened.
I get out. I look at my mom’s perfect silver Nissan Altima. The headlight on the driver’s side is shattered. The car still runs perfectly and the lights work. I hope it won’t cost too much to fix it.
I pull pieces of broken plastic from the headlight. I wonder if any pieces are in the deer. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been in a car accident before. I called my mom, she didn’t answer. I text her a picture of her silver Nissan, which has remnants from the deer still on it.
I get back in the car. I take a deep breath. I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay I tell myself.
I don’t know how the deer is. I hit it at about 40 mph and it may have died on the side of the road. I’m too scared to go back and look.
I’m a safe driver. I tell everyone this and I believe that it is true. I love driving. Not so much anymore. I look out for anything brown when the bushes get too close to the road, and I get nervous when foliage blocks my vision.
The deer was a light brown color with white dots. I learned this meant it was a girl. She was beautiful, and I hit her. She was beautiful and I didn’t slow down enough. She was beautiful and just scared. She was beautiful. And I may have led her to her death.
Not knowing has kept me up many nights, hyperventilating, crying, telling myself I am stupid for speeding.
I wasn’t even in a rush to get anywhere. I know it’s not my fault she jumped into the road, she is just an animal who didn’t know any better. A deer in headlights.
Now I’m a safe driver, because no matter the temptation to drive fast I know that it’s not worth taking a life.