City Busses Are Really, Really Big

I was 17, driving my aunt's red Chevy Cavalier through downtown Fresno, CA. I had only had my license for about 6 months. The sun was setting and everything had that strange orange glow. I approached an intersection that had one of those little old fashioned stop lights off to the side. I never saw the stop light, nor the city bus coming up the cross street. I broadsided the bus at 40 mph. All I remember is a blue flash and a crushing, crunching impact on my chest. The little tin can Cavalier bounced off the bus three times, crushing three sides of the car. I had tried to turn the wheel and step on the brake, and my foot broke across the brake pedal. My seatbelt saved my life, and nearly broke my sternum. Once the car came to rest I vaguely remember people running towards the car yelling, but I was blacking out. It wasn't black though, it was bright orange. I "oranged" out, I guess. That was the only time I ever broke a bone.