When You Are Hit by a Car, and You Are Fine


— Datong Yungang Grotto, Shanxi, 2016.8 | 山西大同云冈石窟


If you are hit by a car, then normally you would not be fine, but would know what to do, right? However, if you are hit by a car, and you are fine, what would you do?



— Datong Yungang Grotto, Shanxi, 2016.8 | 山西大同云冈石窟


This question might confuse everybody. Let me tell you a fresh story, my story.



— Datong Yungang Grotto, Shanxi, 2016.8 | 山西大同云冈石窟


One ordinary morning in April this year, I was hit by a car. It happened at a pedestrian crossing with no traffic lights in Jiangsu Road. I’ve crossed this two-way road for nearly five-hundred days since I moved to Shanghai. It was during the week but after the peak. And the traffic was not busy. As usual, I was enjoying some music with earphones plugged in and following a guy in the front. It was just another morning on my way to work.




Then, all of a sudden, a car just missed the guy and drove straight at me. Scared, I slightly turned away and raised my right hand sending out a signal: “Stop!” But the driver didn’t stop. It first hit my right hip and made me lose balance. I fell towards the car. My right arm was pressing on the hood and my left hand holding my phone tight in the air. The speed was not enough to make me fly, but fast enough to lift me up. My feet were dragged along till the end of the zebra line. Finally, the car stopped. I fell onto the ground and rolled once. It happened too fast. But my subconscious was in slow motion, almost like a dream. There were no sounds, no colors, no pain, nothing. I couldn’t remember how I got up. The moment I started hearing sounds and seeing colors, I found my phone was missing. It took me several minutes to find it behind one of the front wheels. When I found my white earphones were stained black, I began to feel angry. All the while, the driver wearing glasses, remained in his comfortable seat. Thinking about this and realizing that I was supposed to be in a hurry, I couldn’t help shouting at the nerdy driver.



— Datong Yungang Grotto, Shanxi, 2016.8 | 山西大同云冈石窟


“I was walking right after the guy. How could you just drive straight at me?”


“Sorry, I didn’t see you.” He didn’t even look at me. Or was he ashamed to look at me?


“Are you blind?”


“Sorry…” He said indifferently. I became more angry.


“Bullshit! You hit me!”


“Sorry…” He repeated it, throwing me a glance with the same indifference.


“Aren’t you going to say something?” My anger almost exploded.


“Sorry…” He turned into a stone, and the car horns were blowing behind him.



— Datong Yungang Grotto, Shanxi, 2016.8 | 山西大同云冈石窟


I was too shocked to think further and too speechless to stay longer. In the end, I gave him a middle finger and left.



— Datong Yungang Grotto, Shanxi, 2016.8 | 山西大同云冈石窟


By the time I entered the metro station, my mind spun. How could I forget to take a picture of his car number? Idiot! I should report him. But what would I do if I did? Would I like to deal with the police? Would it be worth reporting him?



— Datong Yungang Grotto, Shanxi, 2016.8 | 山西大同云冈石窟


All day long, I was looped by questions. I didn’t feel any pain until the water ran over my body in a shower. There were bruises on my knees, my palms and my hip. And my left little finger couldn’t move. But this didn’t worry me. I actually laughed. Because my family’s newest superstition says that my luck would turn in 2019.   



— Datong Yungang Grotto, Shanxi, 2016.8 | 山西大同云冈石窟


Now, two months have passed. The only thing that still bothers me is my little finger. I often play with it, in a way like one long-bearded philosopher would touch his beard. And meantime I would wonder: If you were me, what would you do? Would you report him right there? Or would you walk away feeling shocked and lucky?


About the Author:


Heather in Sri Lanka, Mar 2015.

Heather in Sri Lanka, Mar 2015.


Heather is the daughter of a subsistence rice farmer from Fujian Province, China. She tells stories from her experience as one of the poorest. She writes her dream to share with the world, a very personal place. She has now written two English literary novels and is looking to being published in the UK. Her passion is a splendid cocktail or milkshake of word, image, music and art. She likes collecting books, DVDs, papers, stones, shells and leaves. She desires for all forms of natural beauty. She is currently living in Shanghai and serving as Sergeant-at-arms (SAA) for Shanghai Leadership Toastmasters Club.


Follow HeathersChamber for more original poems, essays, prose, drawings and pictures


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Yesterday Was A Drama

Strangely yesterday I asked myself, how many Yesterdays have I had so far and how many do I remember? Thus, it seems too many to count and too few to remember. Then I tracked it down to my personal diary. There was one day written in 2013. And the mood of that day was as complicated as yesterday.

It says: Oct.25, 2013

Yesterday, a dramatic woman made an odd day. All the way to the market, all the way home and all day long, she covered her mouth with a hand, laughing and crying with smiles yet without tears, feeling like going to marry tomorrow, acting like the secret of American Dream.

Reading through each word, it seemed as if what happened on that day just happened now. The noises from the market, the faces in the crowds, the aimless footsteps on the way home, the broken laughter and the crying smiles, the hungry eyes and the wandering mind, the complex power of the deep inside waves – all these images were still vivid as a dear heart. And yesterday, there was no fewer dear moments than that day. In the morning, I posted a moment of my mind:

After all these days of building a blog and creating some material for the site, I feel my mind floating high and feverishly, my feet walking on the water, my heart rumbling violently, my passion lying restlessly to the mess, the anger, the pain, and even now my period bleeding abnormally.

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