The Interview- A Near Death Experience

I'll pick you up at 3:30 now.

I rolled my eyes when I read my dad's text. He had said to be outside the school office at 3, so he could pick me up for an interview at the bakery he worked at.

I've already signed out of the school. I guess I'll be waiting here a while then.

I sat down on one of the rocks that surround a garden bed next to the main office, and slung my bag down beside me. I sighed, ran a hand through my curly hair and closed my eyes briefly, welcoming the warmth of the spring sun.

I felt my phone vibrate slightly, and looked down at it.

I'm on my way now.

I rolled my eyes again and smiled. My dad was a funny man. He has always been a bit air headed, going this way and that, not to mention he had a shocking short-term memory. Mum said that was because he had epilepsy, and it always frustrated her.

The thing about epilepsy is that it is almost a hidden disability. You wouldn't ever know someone is epileptic to look at them, and you would only find out when they slip into a fit. It is like an electrical storm in the brain, and they never remember what happened during, or even sometimes after, the fit. Epileptic people aren't actually allowed to drive, but my dad did anyway.

I looked at the time on my phone. It was already twenty past; Dad was supposed to be here five minutes ago. I jumped as the school's bell went, a single dong that reminded me of a monastery.

Then I saw him come through the gates in the little blue car we had borrowed from my maths teacher, because ours had died a week before. It was a manual, and had almost no power.

He pulled up where I was standing, and I threw my bag in the back and sat in the front passenger seat.

'Hey,' I said, shooting him a smile. My dad gave me a somewhat tired smile back, his floppy English hair in his eyes. He was a cleaner at the back of the bakery, making sure the workspace was clean and the various machines and ovens were in working order. It was a dirty, tiring job, and I hated that he was always so exhausted from it. He didn't deserve it.

'Helen had to leave early today,' he said as we pulled out of the school and turned left. 'So you will be interviews by Lisa. Don't worry, she is a bit nicer than Helen.'

'Okay, good. Will Helen be there on Sunday for my trial?'

Dad shook his head. 'No, which is a good thing. It means there won't be as much pressure.' He shot me a grin. 'It's just easier when the boss is away.'

I looked out the window as we came down the steep hill to the roundabout below. I had always hated this roundabout. We passed through it without an incident, and continued to make our way to Mt Evelyn.

We were chatting as we made our way up the hill, Dad complaining that the car had so little power and shifting it into 3rd. I glance out of the window and suddenly heard my dad make a chewing noise.

No.

That was what my dad did whenever a fit came on, as he lost complete control over his muscles. I whipped my head over to him, eyes wide and my breath stuck in my throat. I saw his jaw moving, and saw the car drifting into the opposite lane.

Pure instinct took over as I reached over and grabbed the steering wheel, jerking the car back into the right lane. The cars in front of us had slowed down as they went around the bend, and we were starting to speed up. I realised quickly that my dad's foot was jammed onto the accelerator and there was nothing I could do about it. My breathing was jagged, and I heard myself screaming at him. I couldn't remember what I was saying, I was just screaming.

My hands fumbled with the wheel as I turned us onto the gravel path alongside the road, trying to find the horn. When I did, I pressed it and a long, loud, wailing noise burst through the air as I overtook the cars in front. It was a long curve, and I kept us on the gravel as cars flashed past by a hairsbreadth. But I wasn't looking at them, I only looked ahead, my thoughts were bashing around my skull so fast I could barely keep up.

We're going to crash no I can't let us crash we are going to die....

The road was starting to straighten out as we entered into the main part of Mt Evelyn, and my vision narrowed. In front of me were two lanes of traffic and red lights ahead as people were turning into the IGA on my left. I couldn't breath. We weren't going to make it.

And then it happened. Time stopped. I had experienced this phenomenon before, multiple times actually, when I was riding horses. In the moment when you find out you are about to fall, you have a decision to make: do you fall, or do you not fall? You could give up and take the easy way out, or you could grip on grimly, pushing your body to its limits. And guess what? You don't fall.

I had that decision to make now: do I take the easy way out and give up, letting go of the steering wheel and giving into the utter terror that was encasing my body. Or, do I fight and let us live.  

I made my choice. Now I was determined. Instead of screaming, I started to say in a strong, consistent voice in the hopes that my dad could somehow hear it: 'brake brake brake brake...', almost as a pilot would say brace before crash landing.

I touched the steering wheel as we came hurtling up behind the columns of cars, horn blaring, and slipped in-between them. Without scratching a single car I came speeding out into the red light, people in the on-coming traffic turning in. Yet, somehow, none of them touched me. I continued to say brake brake brake as we flew up the road, my voice seeming impossibly loud as the car gathered more and more speed.

I didn't have time to hesitate when I saw the roundabout ahead. It was a single lane one, and notorious among the locals for being absolute hell. And at 3:30 in the afternoon, there were a lot of people.

But again, I didn't see them. All I saw was what was in front of me. Like a rally car driver, I went round the corner of the roundabout, mounting the curb and I felt my heart stop as I felt the car lean almost on two wheels as we tested around the corner.

Don't tip don't tip don't tip!

Already I had forgotten about the roundabout as I saw kids crossing the road in front of me, but they had gone by the time we hurtled past them. I couldn't remember what happened much after we went past the futsal gym, except yelling at my dad to brake. He yelled out saying that he couldn't, but I only redoubled my efforts as we started to go downhill. There were cars on the side of the road and in front; there was nowhere for me to go.

'Dad! You have to brake!'

My dad yelled as, with the greatest amount of effort possible, he moved his foot from the accelerator to the brake and pressed it.

We slowed, and I steered us to the side of the road where we stopped.

We were no longer moving.

My hands unclipped my seatbelt, shaking with adrenaline. I turned to my dad, and he looked at me with glazed eyes, like he had just been woken from a deep sleep. That's when it hit me.

My dad had locked up when normally he would be loose, and the fit had lasted longer than normal. That was because he was about to dip into a big one, the type where you start shaking and frothing at the mouth. But because I had been consistently yelling at him to brake, some part of his brain that was still working recognised the fear in my voice and had reacted to it. He had managed to actually pull himself out of it.

If he hadn't, I don't think we would have made it. After all, people have died for less.

oOo

So, here is the one and only chapter. This was an event that happened to me in October this year, and I had only gotten my learners license a month before that. After the incident, I rang up the workplace to say that we would be late, and when I did arrive I did the interview and got the job. It was all incredibly surreal, and I can honestly say that adrenaline can make your body do crazy shit.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed :)