Heroes

     January 2nd, 2013 is a day I'm not likely to ever forget. No, it's not my birthday or a super special holiday. I didn't win the lottery or sell a platinum album. But on this day, I was forced to be totally dependent and in turn, I got to see the incredible traits and characteristics that some  of the most precious people in my life hold.
     The story starts with the boots, my never been worn, too big, brown, Christmas boots. I was supposed to go to Show Low with my family the week before to return them, but I had chosen to stay home instead, convincing myself that the opportunity would arise where I would get to go to Show Low by myself. This seemed like a much more relaxing, as well as exciting, trip.
     After my parents told me I couldn't go on the 1st because of possible drunk drivers, they finally said yes and let me go on the 2nd. I banged on my little sister's door, "Staci! Come to Show Low with me! I'll buy you something!" Soon, my best friend (otherwise known as my little sister) came rushing out of her room, dressed and ready to go. We both begged my mom to take her car because my cheap little ghetto-mobile had a missing tail light and wasn't good for long trips; the steering was messed up, the old tires weren't aligned too well, and it was hard to shift. But my mom said no, so we headed out to my little car, still happy to get to go. I threw the boots in the back seat, and we headed off toward Show Low.
     We were jamming to music and talking about boys when my sister reminded me to put my seat belt on. I was usually pretty good about wearing my seat belt when driving with other people, but I had a bad habit of forgetting it when I was the one driving. We both clicked on our seat belts and continued our crazy music session, noticing all the traffic on the road that day.

     I could have sworn what took maybe seven seconds, stretched out into ten minutes. I took my eyes off the road to look for the CD my sister was wanting. I looked up, only to see my car heading straight for a mile post. I had drifted off the road and was in the gravel on the shoulder. I jerked the steering wheel to the left, barely missing the mile marker, but I had over-corrected and I knew it. My car started spinning. I don't know how or why there weren't cars coming from either direction. Something should've hit us by now, I remember thinking, praying it hit my side and not my sister's. Then, as if by magic, the car started rolling. I never understood that, but it did. We rolled off the road, through a ditch and stopping only when a tree hit my window and door. I turned to my sister to make sure she was alright. I looked up and saw the enormous dent in the roof of the car, right above my sister's head. I frantically searched her head for blood, bumps, or any sign of bruises, but to my surprise, she was fine.
     We both sat there for what seemed like eternity, but was probably only a few seconds, before I noticed the traffic on the road again. Cars were passing us. They were passing us!! Didn't they know we had just survived death's grasps?! But then a sickening thought hit my stomach. If they had driven by only seconds before, they very well would've hit us. We wouldn't be alive.
     Just then, an unfamiliar truck pulls up. A middle aged man jumps out and runs over to where we were stuck. He pries my sister's door open and asks if we're alright. "I'm fine," I told him, "but I think my sister needs help!" Within minutes, this heroic man whom I would later find out was named Justin, had informed my parents and the police about what had happened, got my sister to stop crying, and had given her his jacket to stop her from shaking.
     When the Highway Patrol officer arrived, Justin made sure everything was alright before he got back in his truck and drove away. The officer helped me out of the car, and because he knew me and my parents, hugged me and told me everything would be alright. It was then that I started crying. Not so much because my car was totaled or I was scared to face my parents, but because I realized that regardless of how many cars had passed before somebody stopped, somebody did stop. Justin stopped. He took the time to care, as did the Highway Patrol officer. They took the time out of their busy lives to care for me and my sister, and to go that extra mile to make sure everyone was okay. It's people like these that keep my world a happy one. Thank you to all the heroes in my life.