"It was an accident."

That's what everybody kept saying regardless of what migth actually being the truth. It was an accident though, it was a mistake. A delibrate action made by me with results I wish I never created. Why is everybody insisting it's not the end of the world? Something I had no control over would be much easier to manage than the pain caused by me directly.

As far as I'm aware, I was the only person injured on the muscular level. My Mother made it out with a bruise from the seat belt and I had both of my arms injured. The left one only having a small cut, on my right is a world of pain. It hurts to write this, but not anymore than it did to think about the people I've hurt.

Though it may seem unrelated at first, pride is my sin. It wasn't always, but it is now and it has been for years. Apologizing hurts, admitting to fucking up so grandly that I destroyed two cars, both filled with living beings. But all I could do was apologize but no closure would be gained from this. Instead they shifted the focus of guilt onto themselves, it never helped either of us.

Despite my feelings.

Despite the damage I caused.

Everybody walked away more or less unharmed.

But it happened. It happened because of a stupid mistake made by a stupid teenager. Nobody is perfect, nobody can look God in the eye and expect to walk away unharmed. But that's what I attempted and I got a warning.