So after I was dropped off a school today by my dad. I went upstairs, dropped my stuff off in front of my classroom, and then went back outside to go across the street to the gas station and by some cokes. The street I cross is sort of like a mini highway. I have crossed this street many times, both as a freshman and now as a sophomore, and have always been able to cross it safely and quickly with no problems. I wait for a huge gap between the cars on both sides before running across. I also make sure to do a double take before even trying and if I don't feel comfortable I will wait more. Today everything was fine until after I did my double take and began to dart across the road, but then out of nowhere a pickup truck almost hits me. This man either didn't use his freaking turn signal or just decided to randomly speed down the road because I know for a fact that the road was clear before crossing. He missed me by two inches. TWO. FREAKING. INCHES.
I was in a bit of shock and the adrenalin pumping through me kept me from freaking out too much, so I just look at him and say, "Where the heck did you come from?!"
He comes to a stop with his window rolled down and curses at my dropping the f-bomb twice a calls me and dumb-a-word. After getting my sodas from the gas station and going back across the street to get back to school, I tell some adults at the front door what happened. And they act like it's MY fault. Why do they think it's my fault, you ask? Because apparently the school has a policy that once dropped off at the school, you can't cross the street. A policy that I WAS NOT aware of. I was told by my peers that it was okay if you did as long as it was before school started. That's what I was told and what I believed was the rule. I tried to tell them this, but they wouldn't give me the chance to speak.
I went to the nurse because I got a scrape after almost getting killed from tripping on the sidewalk. After getting a bandage, the nurse calls my dad to tell him what happened and when I get on the phone to talk with him- he also acts like it's my fault! Even claiming that I was trying to use the whole incident as an excuse to go home early! The adrenalin has worn off at this point and the fear of what happened mixes in with my anxiety and makes me get more upset. My dad starts telling me that I'm not hurt that bad and that I need to stop crying. Eventually my guidance counselor comes to talk to me for a bit and I cry my heart out to her. She tells me what I need to hear, that it's not my fault and that I'm okay now and that everything is going to be fine.
So that's basically it. Just wanted to share this with everyone because I'm still a little anxious about the whole ordeal. Also sorry for not posting anything... been super busy with school and just life in general. Nothing, except what happened just today, interesting has happened lately.
