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My mother is sweeping the floors
It is  4:10 AM
From the glances I have snuck, she is not crying, not distraught, but in no way normal
It is as if some computer has poorly recreated her from a collection of photographs of her
My mother is handling this whole situation well and I suspect foul play
I am safe now
I am in my home
After standing in a ditch for an hour, my situation has resolved itself incredibly quickly
I take his cue and drive cautiously
My father says "see you at home"
I worry that I will back into the truck and apply the brakes liberally
Will my parents go on their trip to Montreal?
The chain snags and I feel the car being lifted out of the ditch, but I don't know how much gas to give the car
How hard did I hit it
The broken plastic is from the console under the steering wheel
Suddenly the car and the truck are tied together
He says nothing
My father is here now
Lights finally arrive
I can't take credit
The boot is off center, I can't find my balance now
That ruins a long run
I notice my foot has moved
How long have I been here
I have been standing in the same exact spot for half an hour
My brain churns
What now
There is no lying to do
My father knows
I put down the phone, slowly
The words barely make it out of my mouth
I accept fault and give a phony excuse
He is worried
I pick up
Now, my father calls me
He must know
The texts asks where the car is
I look at the bent front end of the civic
My phone buzzes
There is no way I can fix this. I do not want to get back in
My dad is awake
My phone buzzes
There is plastic littered across the two front seats
I hope this is rock bottom
I am in a ditch
The car won't stop, but it screeches