"No! Not red velvet!" I argue into my outdated phone.
As much as I adore the flavor, it isn't one appropriate for a wedding. My current client is an
absolute high fashion diva and would not appreciate any mistakes, my fault or not.
With one slightly sweaty hand on the wheel and the other gripping my phone tightly in
frustration, I grind my teeth as the baker tries to explain himself.
"This receipt says red velvet! I made red velvet!"
Unintentionally, I let my foot press harder against the pedal in sheer vexation, internally cussing
at whoever took Ms. Paega's order.
"Well it's the wrong flavor and my client isn't paying for it! You have six hours to redo the two-
tier cake in pink champagne and luscious lemon before I'm on my way to pi- AAHH!"
I drop the phone in shock and try to grab onto the wheel, anything to jerk the car away from the
semi-truck that's lost control in front of me. Unfortunately, hitting the brake is a belated reaction
on my part and by the time I press my foot down, it's too late.
I watch, seemingly from outside of my own body as my car barrels into the truck. It's a helpless
feeling, knowing that you're stuck somewhere in immediate danger with no way out. It's
frightening, but with no saving grace in this situation, I accept my fate. I didn't think I would die
today, but this is it.
Loud crunching of metal on metal as well as the sounds of my small Nissan frame bending
inwards irks my eardrums, but nothing can stop the inevitable bang of my head against the rock
hard airbag.
I smack against the hard air filled surface, only for my head to bounce back against the headrest
and forward once more.
Then there is blackness.
I'm not sure how long the world is dark, but shouting and the sound of another piece of metal
creaking is what pushes me to open my eyes, or try to at least.
Everything is so blurry that I have to blink a few times before anything clears up and a sudden
burst of light shines from my left.
"I've got her!" A gruff, yet soothing voice yells from beside me.
As someone hands reach across my body, I let my head fall slowly in their direction to see the
face of an angel. Well... Maybe. It could be God himself for all I know.
Anyways, the stranger lifts me out of the car, making my subconscious pinpoint where the clear
stinging of pain resides. It's more potent as I'm jostled a bit and if I could make any noise to
show that it hurts, I would. No sound emits from my mouth though. Despite my uncondoned
silence, shouts from others overlap each other before a deafening eruption or a 'BANG' as many
would describe it, rings about the air in an unstoppable wave of transmit.
The noise of what I imagine the bombing of Hiroshima sounded like makes the thumping of my
head more painful, causing me to let out my first noise thus far, a small groan.
"It's okay," the voice whispers. "You're safe now."