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Rated: E · Short Story · Women's · #1779579
A woman has the worst luck one day in her life
The Worst Day of my Life



The early morning of Friday, April 20 started snowy and windy. I was about to get out of bed when I heard a loud pop in my back and screamed. I felt shooting pain course through my entire body.
“Not my sciatic nerve again,” I complained out loud. I hobbled to the bathroom and turned on the hot water for my shower, hoping that would help. I took a half hour shower and it helped a bit. I stumbled to the kitchen table and poured myself a bowl of Cheerios. I called the emergency line at work, Smith and Jones Law Firm, to see if it was open. There was no message saying the office was closed so I walked to my car. It took me a good half hour to clear all the snow off the car and started the car. It turned over once and I waited a few seconds. I tried again and it turned over again. I waited a few more seconds and it finally started. I smiled and slowly backed the car out of the driveway.


It took me only 15 minutes, compared to the usual half hour, to get to work because there were only a handful of cars on the road. I slammed the car door and walked up to the entrance. Just as I approached the door, I saw a note stuck to the door. It read “due to unforeseen weather conditions, we will be closed the entire day.”
“Thanks for telling us,” I grumbled to myself as I walked back to my car. I took my cell phone out of my purse and dialed my boyfriend of 4 years, Dan. He picked up on the first ring.
“I bet you’re wondering if our office has work,” he said.
“Yes, I am.”
“No we don’t,” he answered.
“Do you want to get together today? I don’t have work either.”
“In this kind of weather? No offense, but I ‘d rather be in my nice warm house,” he said.
“Ok, just asking. I’ll see you next weekend then?”
“I don’t have my schedule in front of me so I’ll give you a call next week,” he said and hung up.


I started the car and carefully made my through the snow covered streets. Two blocks from my apartment complex was a traffic light. I had the green and proceeded straight through the intersection. Not a second later, I glimpsed a blonde haired woman careen through the intersection and smashed into the passenger side of my car. The impact caused my neck to hit the driver’s side window and shatter the glass, leaving tiny cuts on my face. My car slid into a fire hydrant. The blonde haired woman immediately ran out of her car and walked over to my car.
“Are you hurt?” she asked and I mumbled through the closed window. She took out her cell phone and dialed 9-1-1 because a few minutes later, the police and ambulance arrived. A paramedic walked over to my car and motioned for me to open the window. I did and he asked, “Are you hurt?”
“Yes; my neck, my face, and my back hurts a little.”
“Can you move?” the paramedic asked. I moved by head but it was painful and I him. He then yelled for another paramedic and the other man brought a neck brace.
“Would you like a ride to the hospital?” he asked and I slowly nodded. I slowly walked towards the ambulance. The other paramedic opened the back door for me and I walked in.


The ride to the nearest hospital took only a few minutes thanks to a handful of cars. One of the paramedics took my hand and led me out of the ambulance, to an awaiting wheelchair outside the hospital.
“We don’t want to take any chances,” the paramedic explained. The two paramedics walked up to the receptionist and I saw the blonde haired woman rush in the door.
“How is she? I feel horrible,” she asked. The two paramedics finished talking at the reception desk and were about to walk over to me, when they saw the woman. One of them walked over to her and said, “The police would like to ask you some questions.” A few minutes later, three policemen arrived. They walked over to the woman and led her to a couch in the lobby. A nurse walked towards me and said, “You must be Sue Thomas. I’m Nurse Kelly. Come this way and we’ll take a few X-Rays.”


I walked with the nurse and we arrived in an empty room, except for the X-Ray machine. The nurse took about 10 X-Rays but it seemed like 50 because she was so methodical. When she was finished, we walked to another room.
“I’m going to hand these to our doctor on staff and he’ll tell you the results,” she explained and walked away to find the doctor. I sat on a plastic chair and glanced at the clock. It read “10”. I looked through an out-dated fashion magazine on a rack attached to the wall. I glanced at the clock again and it read “10:50”.
“I hope he didn’t forget about me,” I thought out loud. I then looked up and heard a rap at the door and the doctor entered.
“Hello Sue. I’ve had a chance to look at your X-Rays,” he said. I took a deep breath and he continued.
“There’s nothing to get excited about. Your neck is not broken but the muscles are stretched. The swelling will go down in about three days. You have a few lacerations on your face but they’re not deep and not infected. You also mentioned your back was sore and we checked on that. Your back is swollen but not broken. I’d say you had a lucky break,” he explained and I rolled my eyes. He wrote a few things down on a piece of paper and handed it to me.
“Take this to the pharmacist. It’s a prescription for painkillers. I wish you well,” the doctor said and led me out of the room.


I walked downstairs, to the pharmacist. I gave the note to the druggist and he filled my prescription. I called Dan and he picked me up a few minutes later.
“I can’t believe it. You’ve never been in an accident before. Do the police know who caused the accident?”
“I didn’t have a chance to ask. All I saw was blonde hair,” I said and he nodded.


As soon as Dan dropped me off, I locked my door. It was cold in my apartment so I walked to my bedroom to grab a sweater out of the closet. As I walked back into the living room, I glanced at the answering machine and the message light was blinking. I played it and listened. It said, “You have one new message. Message one, received today at 11:05 am.”
“Hi Sue, this is Tom with the Newton police department. We have the name of the woman who hit you. Her name is Samantha Stewart. If you have any other questions, feel free to contact me at 526-952-6251. Thank you”. I wrote down the woman’s name and called Dan.
“The police know who hit me,” I said as soon as he picked up.
“Who is it?”
“Samantha Stewart,” I said. Dan gasped and fell silent. I asked, “Do you know her?” He took a deep breath before he told me.
“Yes, I know her. Remember when my friends and I went to the bar last week? My friend’s dared me $100 to kiss this one woman at the bar and I accepted. She was talking with one of her friends when I approached. I gave her a one-liner and then started telling her all about me. The more we talked, the more I was attracted to her. Actually, she kissed me first and I kissed her back. I saw her twice after that night at the bar,” he explained.
“And you’re just telling me this now, after she hurt me in an accident?” I yelled at him.
“I guess,” he meekly said.
“This must be the worst day of my life. First I get into an accident and then I discover my boyfriend of four years cheated on me,” I said and hung up before he could defend himself.
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