Heels Over Head

a real-life adventure

Read Part II here.

Now available in ebook format!

The next split second felt almost like a cartoon. I shook my head to halt the spinning. I was instinctively braced for yet another impact. I waited. Nothing happened.

A wall of damp, muddy concrete outside my now missing driver-side window seemed to form the impenetrable wall of a cold, wet prison.

I could see mud and grass on the other side of the passenger window. I reached up to finish unrolling that window, ignoring the crippling pangs that traveled through my arms into my chest as I stretched. Once the window was completely open, I put one hand through into the mud, with every intention of pulling myself out of the car and then getting my children away from the wreck before we could be hit again. Almost before I realized what was happening, I was flat on my back on a muddy slope, rain pouring on my face. Someone was holding my head firmly in place, and a woman had knelt beside me to assure me everything would be all right.

"I'm a paramedic," she explained in a steady voice.

I struggled to free myself from my human restraints, crying that I had to get my children out of the car.

"Your children are fine. They are out of the car. They are not hurt," the woman tried to calm me.

"No, they're still in the car," I cried, feebly fighting the three people now holding me in place. "I have to get them out..."

"Ma'am, how many people were in your car?" the woman asked.

"My two children and me," I replied. "I have to get the children out..."

"I see two children, a boy and a girl. They are fine. I need you to quit moving."

"My neck isn't broken. Please let me help my children," I cried.

"Honey, your children are going to be fine. You need to hold still. Where does it hurt?"

"My face and my shoulder. But I'm fine. I just need to see that my children are okay."

"What direction were you going?"

"South."

"What day is it?"

"September 25th."

"September?"

"May 25th," I snapped, growing even more frustrated, as if that was truly possible. "We are going south to Colorado Springs to pick up my best friend, and then are going back to Denver to watch the Rockies play the Reds. I have four seats in the autograph section. I'm FINE. Please let me see my children..."

"She's fine," someone I couldn't see said with a fraudulent laugh.

Read Part III here.

Table of Contents

Copyright 2012 by Deborah and Brett AtkinsonAll rights reserved. No part of this book - prose, photos or graphics - may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express prior written permission of the author.

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