Twice.

My first time crashing the car was a few months ago. It threw me into a panic. First of the damage, then of what my dad would do. It was the day of my prom and I was going to my sister's house to get my hair and makeup done. My dad borrowed the car that morning and parked it too close to the parking garage's wall. Backing up wasn't an easy task to position the car to go down the ramp. When I thought I had enough room, I slowly took my foot off the brake. I felt the car bump into the corner of the ramp, but it was already making its way down. I stomped on the brake as soon as I could. Luckily, the damage was minor, but there was still a dent and scratches. My dad flipped when he found out, but still let me use the car.
Last night was the second time. It was around midnight and I had to take my friend home. The street was crowded with cars. I didn't see my neighbors car behind me, it's a dark blue Corvette, and hit it. My friend tried calming me down but I was so worked up. We checked the damage. Thankfully, he only had minor scratches, but part of my bumper cracked a bit. My dad doesn't know. My mom's boyfriend said he can cover whatever scratches there are and push the bumper into place so it's less noticeable for now. Thank God for him.
BrokenLullaby BrokenLullaby
18-21, F
Jul 25, 2010