The true story of when I ran myself over with my own car.
I ran myself over with my car. I had never felt more like an idiot in my life. I am lucky to be alive, actually. What a dumb way to die.
The morning started just like any other with me being frazzled and running late. I rushed through my morning routine, grabbed my work, and darted out the door. This is the same as any other weekday except on this particular morning, I was on the phone with a friend. She called me at 7:30 am to try and help me with getting my lazy ass out of bed, but we ended up chit chatting as I rushed around.
I hopped in the car, cranked it up, put it in drive, and got off the phone with my friend. Then, I realized, as I was backing up, that I had forgotten my lunch in the house. I jumped out and headed to the house to go get it. I saw the car moving in my peripheral vision.
I turned around and was horrified to see my car backing up out of my driveway with my driver side door hanging open. I raced back to the car, in my heels, and grabbed the edge of the driver’s side door just as the car backed up out of my driveway.
I hung on as the car drug me across the street and into the neighbor’s yard before finally coming to a stop against the tree between my car and the neighbor’s house.
Luckily, the tree stopped serious damage, or worse, to myself and anything else.
The pain was not instant. It seemed to be on a twenty second delay. It came with an intensity that almost knocked me on my back again. Lunging, burning pain in my ankles, knees, and back. Blood pooled up on my knees and my ankles started swelling. I started mentally berating myself for not letting go of the car.
Then I started laughing. Then, just as suddenly, I stopped laughing. That was the moment I realized all of my neighbors had caught this on their cameras.