Storms, Death, and Other Things I Didn't Used to Be Afraid of

I had a run-in with death today. Not a close one, but with something as serious as death, it was close enough.

My friend Paul and I have been friends for the better part of the last six years. But, since we chose different colleges, we haven't really been able to hang out recently. Different paths and all that jazz. After a wonderful afternoon spent catching up, and a little bragging about Greek Life, our respective schools, and friends, I left to make five o'clock curfew to help my dad with dinner.
It didn't start with a sprinkle. One minute I was driving and the sky was clear, the next minute it was raining. Not a bad rain, just a normal pour at light number one. By the time I make it to light number two, it's really raining. Cars are driving slower, and my windshield wipers are at their max. I'm almost to light number three when the cars around me start turning on their hazard lights and start really slowing down. I'm getting kind of nervous of fallen trees, break time, and my eyesight. I hit a red light at light number four, and this is the first time I can really see the rain fall. It's not falling straight, but from an angle. The red light is broken, some specks just black, and I start to panic at the sporadic nature of the rain. One second I think it's going to clear up, and the next second my windshield is being pounded by the rain.
I scream at the light: "COME ON! Change already!"
The light doesn't listen to my command, I start to worry that my precious Bluebird will become my grave. My hands shake, and I want to pull over as soon as the light turns red. But where? And what if this is turning into a tornado. Just a little longer. Just a little further. Just a little...
The light turns green and I'm so scared, because the rain has picked up. I can't be going more than ten miles per hour, but the rain is beating my windshield, and I can no longer see. Please slow down. Please help me. I make it to light number five, the last light before the curvy road, and then the sweet solace of my neighborhood. But, after light number five I can't see. I thought I couldn't see before, but this is worse. I turn the volume up on my radio to distract me from the pounding my car is getting, and the walls of water shooting up on both sides of my car. I try not to panic or breathe, or talk, just listen to the music. Just stay calm. A car on the opposite lane goes by and a wall of water comes at me from the front. I send a not-so-silent prayer to whomever will listen: "Please just make it stop. Please." My hands are more than shaking now, and the rain continues to beat at my car from all angles, and there's nowhere to stop, there's nowhere but down the hill. I travel down the hill. and worry not for the first time I'm about skidding, being water-born, a car hitting me from behind, my own car stalling, and just plain dying.
I've never truly feared about my own death. What's there to fear? I die, and then it's over. The people who die aren't the ones left to cry. But, right then as I was driving down the hill not able to see even a few inches in front of me, I feared death with my whole being.
I'm finally at the left turn into my neighborhood. "GO," I scream at the cars in the other lane. "I just want to be home.I just want it all to stop." I'm near tears, but I know I have to hold it together just a little bit longer or else I'll really be in trouble. Three cars later, I remind myself not to zip in my neighborhood. Take the turn at a normal speed. I drive the same speed I've been driving for the last half of the trip, and walls of water  continue to shoot up around my car as I continue down the hill.
My house finally comes into view, and I'm moving so slow I have to give my car some more juice to make it up our driveway. The car's in park, and I sit there trying to gather my library books, and purse before I make a mad dash in...but it's not raining. I search for the garage door opener in my purse, and as I find it, the rain starts to fall again. "No," I breathe more than say into the space of my car. I've pressed the button a dozen times with my body pressed as close to the wall as I can trying not to get drenched, before finally screaming: "Just open! Please! Just open!" And then a second before my garage door opens, I break down and start crying. I walk through the door hoping just for once to find my dad there waiting to tell me that he's glad I made it safe.
And he is there. But what he says as I walk in crying is: "It sure was stupid of you to drive out in this rain!" I'm already in the process of breaking down, so I run to my room with tears streaming down my face and curl up with my pillow pet.

-TAASG