Personal Narrative: My First Car

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I had just finished up a grueling eight-and-a-half hour shift at work; I was eager to get home and relax. I was driving down a curvy county road in my beloved grey Camry when disaster struck. It was my first car, and I always made sure to take great care of it. There was not a speck of dirt anywhere to be seen in the car, and although it was a couple years old, it still had that new car smell. Everywhere I went with my car I was willing to park as far away as necessary to ensure it would never get a door-ding. After standing on my feet monotonously cashiering all day I couldn’t wait to get home and eat dinner. My mom planned to have barbeque chicken sandwiches ready when I got home, which is my favorite meal. The speed limit on the road was forty miles-per-hour, so of course I was going no faster than that. I was almost home, approaching an intersection when I noticed a car approaching from the cross street at an unusually fast rate. The next thing I knew that car was right in front on me, having failed to stop at the stop sign. I slammed on my brakes as hard as I could, but it was no use. I could hear the squealing of my tires as they tried to slow me down. I slammed directly into the other car, throwing me into the airbag. I could feel my seatbelt lock and squeeze me into my seat. The sound of glass breaking …show more content…
My first car had been very symbolic for me, representing my freedom and ability to make my own choices. It seemed like such a loss to me, when I realized I would not drive that car again, but it taught me to remember what is really important in life. Although I was very upset the car was destroyed, I did not sustain any injuries in the crash. I learned that material things are not as important as personal health and wellbeing. It was difficult to watch that grey Camry being destroyed, but material things are always replaceable. I am learning to love my new blue Camry just as

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