WEBVTT
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The fog is so thick your head lights turn into
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a useless glow, twenty feet of yellow haze and nothing else.
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Then a deer flashes past you swerve, something slams into
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your truck. Trees explode into your windshield as a shape
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stands in the midst.
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What's that you want to be scared? He come with me.
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You will experience tails over over, ghosts and death death.
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It is not recommended for the weeded heart listeners in
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the dark ark It's more fun that way, way way.
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This is weakly.
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Speaking, Hello, my Spookyes, it's Wednesday, and you know what
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that means. It's time for a little spooky in your
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weekly I'm your host and narrator, Enrique Kuto, and tonight
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we're taking a long winding trip on a dark and
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foggy road. But before we get to that, I want
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to take one moment to say thank you all so
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much for joining us this week. You are the spooky
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diehards that keep the show going all year round, allowing
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our little spirit Halloween of a podcast to bring you
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fear and fun every single week. And if you love
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what we do here and want to show us some support,
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we do appreciate it, head to Weeklyspooky dot Com slash
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Join for as little as one dollar a month. You
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get two bonus shows every month, as well as over
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five years of exclusive creepypasta readings and audiobooks. All you
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have to do is head to Weeklyspooky dot Com slash Join,
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and if you want to show us some love in
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a way that doesn't cost you a single penny, just
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head to your favorite podcasting app like Apple Podcasts or
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Spotify and leave us a five star rating. That way,
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other spookies like you will know they're in the right place.
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But now, as for tonight, winter roads are bad enough, ice,
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slick turns, and that kind of fog that swallows tail
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light's whole. But sometimes the danger isn't on the pavement,
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it's what's waiting just beyond, beyond the guardrail. Because if
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your truck goes down the hill, if you land hard
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in the trees, if you're injured and alone in the dark,
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you might discover something out there can smell fear, and
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it's been hungry all night long, So check your mirrors,
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keep your hands steady, and whatever you do, don't swerve.
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I hate driving a truck in winter, but not just
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because of the weather. By Michael Kelso. I could smell
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the stench of death creep over the dashboard as a
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set of claws reached through the hole in the shattered
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windshield a few hours before I faced my horrible demise.
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I hate winter, I thought, as I drove down the highway.
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It used to be fun way back when I was
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a kid, and all I had to worry about was
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if there was enough snow for school to be canceled.
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I reminisced about hovering by the radio in my youth. Yeah,
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I'm that old, waiting for the announcer to name my
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school in the list of cancelations, while looking out the
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window and silently praying for it to snow even harder.
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My mom would yell at me to get ready and
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declare that when she was a kid, the snow had
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to be piled up to the door before they would
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cancel school. Wait, they're almost up to our letter, I'd say,
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knowing they the listings alphabetically, and if I missed it
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this time around, it could be another ten minutes of
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torture wading through songs and commercials until they did the
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cancelation announcements again. I sighed in despair as they reached
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my letter and passed it without saying my school's name.
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I trudged off to get ready, then hurried back, only
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to have my hopes dashed. If it was a good day.
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They canceled school early, and I spent the entire day
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running and playing in the snow with the few neighborhood
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kids in our little village of fewer than two hundred people.
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I'd come home just when the sun was about to set,
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exhausted and freezing, but with a smile on my face.
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This particular day was not a good day. I hopefully
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listened to the radio one last time as my mom
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yelled at me to get outside or I would miss
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the bus. My school had not been named. I trudged
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outside as the great yellow beast hurtled down the hill
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and slid to a stop. It usually stopped in front
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of my house, but today, with the tires fighting against
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three inches of snow on the road, it slid right
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past and I had to run to catch it. It
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wasn't that the plows couldn't keep up. We just lived
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on a secondary road. Main roads took priority, and we
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got a pass through every once in a while I
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stepped onto the bus, looking at the driver, who appeared
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as thrilled as I did to be heading to school.
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When suddenly, the bus lurched forward and slid thirty feet.
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I fell well onto the step, but stayed inside the bus.
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The door hadn't been closed yet, and I didn't realize
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how lucky I had been not to fall out and
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be run over by the bus's rear wheels. When we
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finally stopped, the driver looked down at me and asked
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if I was okay. I told her yes, and asked
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what had happened. She looked in her mirror and said
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someone must have hit us. She got out and found
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that a woman had lost control of her car coming
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down the hill and slid right into us. That was
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my first experience with how dangerous winter driving can be.
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That is one of the main reasons I hated winter.
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Why I chose years later to be a truck driver
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in Pennsylvania. I don't really know. You'd think after being
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nearly run over by my own bus, i'd learn my lesson.
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I guess not. These were my thoughts as I drove
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trying to finish my run and get home on one
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of the foggiest nights i'd ever driven in I'd drawn
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the short straw and had to take the late run
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to go pick up parts for the next day. Driving
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a box truck has its pluses and minuses. I don't
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have to worry about dragging a trailer around behind me
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at ungodly speeds. But when the truck is empty, let's
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just say winter is not its friend. Traction can be
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dodgy with an empty truck. Tonight I had a different challenge.
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A week earlier had been the coldest of this winter
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so far, with an ice storm followed by snow and
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bitter temperatures. Thankfully I didn't have to do the long
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run on any of those days. However, four days after
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the cold snap, temperatures rose into the forties and fifties.
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There was even a little rain. It was beautiful to
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see all the ice and snow melt off, but it
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made for ungodly thick fog. You know the expression the
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fog was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Well,
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this fog you couldn't cut with a chainsaw. It stole
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the light from the afternoon sky, rendering it nearly dark,
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even though it was a near impenetrable wall of fog.
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It had an ethereal quality to it. There were less
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dense parts that swirled and danced as the barely visible
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red dots of the car tail lights in front of
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me sliced through it. It was magical, mesmerizing, and extremely
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dangerous to be lulled by this phenomenon. As I drove
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down on the highway, surrounded by other drivers I assumed
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were fighting to pay attention like I was, my lights
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were essentially useless. They lit up twenty feet of fog
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in front of me, and that was it. The light
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reflected back in my face, nearly blinding me if I
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tried to turn on the high beams. There were no
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fog lights on my truck. With the cheapskateway, the company
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took care of their vehicles. I was lucky the headlights
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worked at all. There was no way I was going
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the speed limit. I had the needles stuck at thirty five,
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and even that seemed too fast for the conditions. My
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hazard lights flashed an eerie glow in arrhythmic fashion as
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I crawled my way toward the warehouse in my empty
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box truck. I wasn't looking forward to the trip back either.
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It was nearly dark now I couldn't imagine how bad
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visibility would be on the return trip. I glanced at
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the radio to turn the station. When a deer flashed
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in front of me. I stomped on the brakes and
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swerved to miss it. Thankfully there wasn't anyone in that lane.
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Thank God for small faith, I started to say. When
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something slammed into the side of my truck. The vehicle
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tipped on two wheels, and before I knew what was happening,
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I had lost control. I swerved toward the side of
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the road, narrowly missing a big rig and heading straight
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for the berm. Usually there would be a guard rail
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to stop me, or at least slow me down, but
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this was an older section of road and it only
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had the old style guard rail, a heavy metal wire
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stretched between posts to prevent drivers from careening over the side.
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These wires were the reason that new guard rails were
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so much sturdier. I felt the impact as the metal
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tried to slow me down but failed. I soared through it,
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hearing its smack off the side of the truck as
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it tore out of the ground. I hoped it wouldn't
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fling around and smash through the windshield that would end
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my trip permanently. I stopped worrying about the heavy metal
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wire shattering my windshield when my truck took a sudden
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noseedive over the edge of the road. The fall was fast,
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but the fog seemed more intense. Tree branches assaulted the
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windshield and shattered my passenger side window. I stood on
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the brakes and fought the steering wheel, but it was useless.
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The tree appeared in front of me a split second
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before I hid it, destroying the driver's side headlight and
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folding my hood like a piece of paper. The air
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bag went off, smacking me in the face and destroying
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my visibility. I continued to hold on to the useless
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steering wheel as the truck bounced off the tree and
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careen sideways. I watched helplessly as another tree headed straight
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for me. This one took its wrath out on the
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passenger door and brought the truck to a sudden stop.
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I was thrown sideways. Pane shot through my side as
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my seat belt stopped me from ending up a bloody
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spot on the tree trunk. Everything except me ended up
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on the passenger side floor. Things I hadn't seen in
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years made a sudden reappearance. The fire extinguisher, years worth
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of old chip bags and candy wrappers, and a bottle
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of soda that I didn't want to guess how long
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had been there. I paused and took in a deep breath.
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Halfway through, pain told me I might have some fractured ribs.
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The truck was leaning to the side, but not enough
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that I couldn't unfasten my seatbelt. The pressure on my
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ribs made me undo it as quickly as possible. I
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hadn't thought it through, though. As soon as I was free,
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gravity grabbed me and threw me into the passenger seat.
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I screamed when I landed on my side, hoping I
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hadn't caused any more damage. My breath came in ragged
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gasps as I tried to breathe through the agony. Eventually
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I was able to think about anything other than pain
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and stared out the windshield. One headlight still valiantly fought
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against the oppressive gloaming, making the heavy fog glow and
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eerie yellow. I strained my eyes to see anything in
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front of me, but it was pointless. All that was
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there were trees. I looked out of the somehow undamaged
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driver's window and up at the faint flashes of light
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from the headlights of cars and trucks driving by on
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the road, oblivious to my fate. It was a steep bank.
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I had tumbled over, probably a hundred feet from the
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side of the road to where the wounded truck and
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I now lay. The brush and trees didn't look too bad,
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and the hill wasn't so steep that I couldn't climb
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it under normal circumstances. I looked down at the yellow
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t shirt I wore that had a red patch which
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was getting bigger, and realized it wouldn't be so easy.
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I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone,
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surprised to find it had received little damage. I thanked
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God for small favors and called my boss. I told
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him what had happened and approximately where I thought I was.
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He was none too happy about the state of the truck,
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but found solace in the fact that at least direct
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on the way down when it was empty, rather than
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on the way back when it would be full of
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car parts. I'm sure the thought of searching through the underbrush,
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for every little bolt and gasket sent shivers down his spine.
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He said he'd send a tow truck, then hung up.
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I realized he hadn't even asked if I was injured.
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I thought about it for a long minute, then began
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mentally updating my resume. In the meantime until the tow
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truck got here, I decided to climb out of the
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truck and try to make my way back up to
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the road. With the fog as dense as it was,
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I was sure the tow truck would have a hard
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time finding me. I started for the driver's door when
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my blood turned to ice. I'd glanced out the windshield
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into the gloaming fog and saw something big slowly coming
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toward the truck. It was only a shadow lit by
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the flashing red lights, which made it even eerier seeing
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it glow red like some massive demon looking creature emerging
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from the pits of hell come to devour my soul.
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It stood upright, and the lights reflected in its eyes,
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making them shine red. It was heading for the truck
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when its eyes locked on mine. It paused, and I
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found a new definition of fear. As the teeth grew
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into a smile. They also shone red, but I couldn't