Morning Nightmare

Blowing snow on the Trans-Canada highway as I am making my way from Saint John to Rothesay with my twelve year old daughter sitting beside me. Some sort of new sedan with black leather interior. I am forty four or so and we are talking about her grandparents who we are going to visit.

The front end of the car lurches left unexpectedly. My car grazes a mini-van that was overtaking us and spins in my own lane. My head is thrown against my window and all I see are flashes of white snow on the hills raising up on either side of the highway, then the black of the road, then white.

The On-Star is beeping in alarm and my daughter is screeching at the top of her lungs- I'm wrestling with the steering wheel, the gas and the hand brake all at the same time like some yachtsman fighting a gale.

There's a sound of metal screaming and a deep noise that wipes out every thought from my mind- I open my eyes and I am lying in a snow bank beside the car- it is twisted around the bridge support, passenger side crushed inward all the way to the drivers console.

There's blood everywhere, covering the snow and I can't hear my daughter screaming anymore.

I'm glad I don't wake up alone.