Luckily Got Off Scott-Free
So there I was, driving my car, enjoying a smoke, minding my own business. I opened my window and flicked off my cigarette. Then, my cigarette hit this stupid kid on a bike who then came crashing down. I looked in my rear-view mirror and saw him immediately stand up. He seemed ok so I went on driving.
I would have had a lawsuit on my hands. Wasn’t my fault he was there though. I didn’t do nothin’ wrong. It was an accident. Anyway, he seemed fine. He was able to get up immediately. So I went on my way. Basically, nothin’ happened. I’m so lucky to get out of there scott-free.
Now, it’s time to get a drink with the guys.
____________________________________________
So there I was, riding my bike, on my way to help a friend. When suddenly, this guy driving a car flicks off his cigarette, and hits me with the lighted end. I was so surprised, with the searing pain of the burn hitting my flesh (and if you’ve ever been burned by a cigarette, you know what I’m talking about), that I lost my orientation and came crashing down.
Out of instinct, pumped with adrenaline, I got up immediately. I looked at the guy driving the car, looking at his rear-view mirror. I think he waved, to say sorry or something, but continued to drive away. Only then did I realize the searing pain in my left leg. I had gotten up too impulsively, out of my nature to check if everything was ok, but apparently, I was not. I fell back to the ground, unable to contain the pain in my left leg.
It took a while before a person actually brought me to a hospital. Everybody else was just watching around, gawking.
After the doctor’s examination, it turned out worse than I expected. My leg was not just broken, complications would make me slightly crippled. I could still walk, but with a slight limp, and to me, this was a terrible thing. You see, I had been training to be a sprinter, with dreams of competing in the Olympics. My coach had told me that my time had been quite exceptional, and with some more training, I might just be Olympics-material. But that’s gone now.
The scar the cigarette burn left me looks like the mark of one of the fraternities in our University, which they do as part of their initiation.
I never smoked. It was bad enough that you poisoned your body needlessly for superficial reasons, but you were also polluting the air for the rest of us, exposing us needlessly, for your superficial pleasure. And now my future has also been forever damaged by this frivolous vice I had never even taken.
If he truly cared, he should have stopped. Seeing me get up was not enough. He should have known that a terrible consequence was possible, and should have been man enough to see me through it. After all, it was he who caused it. But no, he wasn’t man enough to face the consequences, because it was not he who had to suffer for his vice in the first place. He didn’t care. He only cared about himself, and was little doubt happy to walk away from it scott-free, that is, if he ever thought about the incident at all.
Not so on my part. I have to live with the pain every day of my life. I have to deal with the consequences of a filthy habit I had never taken. An important part of my life has been damaged, because of the careless vice of another.
Why do people have to smoke anyway! It’s not necessary! If he wasn’t smoking, if he was responsible, if he wasn’t a litter-bug, none of this would have happened, and I could live my life full of potential! But he has robbed me of this potential.
Why should I be the one to suffer! I had taken care of my body so much! I had never joined fraternities so that my body would not be subjected to such initiations! But why must I now suffer as if I had!
I should not have been so nice. I should have screamed at him and insisted that he stopped and pay the penalty for his carelessness. But I was too polite to scream at him, and too courageous to realize that something had already gone wrong with my body.
One little incident changed my life. And it was not my fault; it was the fault of another. But I am the one who has to live with that. Every single day of my life.
-A. L. E.-
I would have had a lawsuit on my hands. Wasn’t my fault he was there though. I didn’t do nothin’ wrong. It was an accident. Anyway, he seemed fine. He was able to get up immediately. So I went on my way. Basically, nothin’ happened. I’m so lucky to get out of there scott-free.
Now, it’s time to get a drink with the guys.
____________________________________________
So there I was, riding my bike, on my way to help a friend. When suddenly, this guy driving a car flicks off his cigarette, and hits me with the lighted end. I was so surprised, with the searing pain of the burn hitting my flesh (and if you’ve ever been burned by a cigarette, you know what I’m talking about), that I lost my orientation and came crashing down.
Out of instinct, pumped with adrenaline, I got up immediately. I looked at the guy driving the car, looking at his rear-view mirror. I think he waved, to say sorry or something, but continued to drive away. Only then did I realize the searing pain in my left leg. I had gotten up too impulsively, out of my nature to check if everything was ok, but apparently, I was not. I fell back to the ground, unable to contain the pain in my left leg.
It took a while before a person actually brought me to a hospital. Everybody else was just watching around, gawking.
After the doctor’s examination, it turned out worse than I expected. My leg was not just broken, complications would make me slightly crippled. I could still walk, but with a slight limp, and to me, this was a terrible thing. You see, I had been training to be a sprinter, with dreams of competing in the Olympics. My coach had told me that my time had been quite exceptional, and with some more training, I might just be Olympics-material. But that’s gone now.
The scar the cigarette burn left me looks like the mark of one of the fraternities in our University, which they do as part of their initiation.
I never smoked. It was bad enough that you poisoned your body needlessly for superficial reasons, but you were also polluting the air for the rest of us, exposing us needlessly, for your superficial pleasure. And now my future has also been forever damaged by this frivolous vice I had never even taken.
If he truly cared, he should have stopped. Seeing me get up was not enough. He should have known that a terrible consequence was possible, and should have been man enough to see me through it. After all, it was he who caused it. But no, he wasn’t man enough to face the consequences, because it was not he who had to suffer for his vice in the first place. He didn’t care. He only cared about himself, and was little doubt happy to walk away from it scott-free, that is, if he ever thought about the incident at all.
Not so on my part. I have to live with the pain every day of my life. I have to deal with the consequences of a filthy habit I had never taken. An important part of my life has been damaged, because of the careless vice of another.
Why do people have to smoke anyway! It’s not necessary! If he wasn’t smoking, if he was responsible, if he wasn’t a litter-bug, none of this would have happened, and I could live my life full of potential! But he has robbed me of this potential.
Why should I be the one to suffer! I had taken care of my body so much! I had never joined fraternities so that my body would not be subjected to such initiations! But why must I now suffer as if I had!
I should not have been so nice. I should have screamed at him and insisted that he stopped and pay the penalty for his carelessness. But I was too polite to scream at him, and too courageous to realize that something had already gone wrong with my body.
One little incident changed my life. And it was not my fault; it was the fault of another. But I am the one who has to live with that. Every single day of my life.
-A. L. E.-
