There was one day when I was probably no older than 11 years old, I was visiting my cousins in the country (Clarendon). It was about 8pm, and we were in a taxi on our way to church for Young People’s meeting. My 3 cousins and myself were in the back seat, and a lady in the front seat. The roads in the countryside are usually quite narrow. Taxi drivers like to speed, of course, because the sooner you arrive, the sooner you are able to pick up someone else, the more money you make for the day.
We were speeding around a corner and suddenly a truck overtook us and scraped the side of the car. The impact was powerful. “Samantha?” Annmarie said. “SAMANTHA!!???” she yelled. Samantha was on the side that got slammed, and she just sat there with her head down. “SAMAN-” “WHAT??” Samantha interrupted. She seems frustrated and the way her sister was screaming her name and somewhat taken aback at what just happened.
The taxi driver decided to chase the truck driver to get him to pay for the damages.
My cousin Keshia and I held hands and I kept saying I dont want to do it, and I’m scared, and I want to go back home.
The taxi driver only drove faster around the twists and turns of the country road. My heart was beating very face and I felt like I was going to die.
We eventually caught up with the truck which slammed into the bridge. We pulled up right behind the truck and the taxi driver got out and walked over to the driver’s door and started cursing the driver.
Then I looked up and saw the truck’s reverse lights turn on and I heard the familiar “beep, beep, beep” sound of a reversing vehicle. “A reverse him a reverse?” Annmarie asked if he was going to reverse. “Unuh come out!” Keshia said we should get out of the car.
But the car doors were locked.
“Open di door drivah, open di door!” Annmarie, again frantic, screamed for the driver to open the door.
But I decided I was not going to wait to die. I climbed over the front seat, into the driver seat, then through the driver’s window.
Strange thing is, when I eventually got outside, everyone was already out there staring at me. My hair was disheveled – well, more than it usually was, my left shoe was missing, and I felt a tingling pain on my right finger.
Eventually a crowd gathered, the police came and a girl came out of the truck. It took a long time before we could go home, and by this time I realized I had cut my finger badly and it was bleeding quite a bit. The truck driver apparently had intentions to rape the girl. Eventually one of the ladies took the girl home with her and we got a ride home.
When we got in at first we were so shocked. Then as we recounted the events of the night, especially my poor attempt to save myself, we couldn’t help but burst out laughing for the rest of the night. We were laughing about the experience for WEEKS later. but of course we were glad that the girl was rescued.