Teens automatically feel a little more like an adult when they receive a driver’s license. It is almost as if all the freedom in the world is at their fingertips. That is, until they crash their car and, ultimately, their new responsibilities.

The feeling of owning the world quickly disappears. Guts drop like a 6-year-old on a roller coaster, only this rollercoster does not end when they screech to a stop; parents are still waiting for “the talk.”

This profusion of feelings flooded me the moment I backed my car into my uncle’s big white Ford truck.

Not only did I back my car into his, but most embarrassingly, the truck was parked in my driveway; I hit a stationary car. I was in a hurry and did not see the car because I had an appointment to get my eyebrows waxed.

After the incident, I ran inside to secretly tell my mother. My uncle was in the room with my father, who had undergone hernia surgery two days prior. Though I was fearful of potential screaming and yelling, my mother actually laughed hysterically and told me to go to my appointment.

As I drove off with no right corner panel, my mother came to her senses and appeared at my appointment. She told me that I would have to tell my father. Hearing this was more painful than the hair being ripped out of my eyebrows.

While driving home fearing my fate, I gathered all the courage I could to confront my father. When I went inside I walked down the cold dark hallway where I would soon face him.

When passing through the shadowy passageway, taking deep, shuddery breaths, I was oddly reminded of The Godfather. When I entered my parents’ bedroom, my father was lying much like a vegetable in his bed, not moving. All I could see were my own hands trembling in fear.

I could not see him, but I could hear his breaths.

“Natalie, come over here,” my dad said under his breath, his voice still coarse from his surgery. “Tell me what happened.”

I ventured closer to my doom and sat in a chair that was placed purposely next to my parents’ bed. Still I could not see anything.

“I backed into Uncle Matt’s car,” I said, trembling.

“The damage?” he asked.

“Bad.”

“You will be punished,” he said firmly. “You will work in his office until you pay off your debt for the accident.”

“Yes dad, I will. I am so sorry.” As I apologized I began to cry, my guilt completely exposed.

As I showed my shame to my dad, he surprised me and said, “Natalie, don’t worry, things like this happen in life; you will work off your debt and apologize for what you did. Life will go back to normal.”

I was encouraged by my dad’s assurance in the situation.

I ended up working for my uncle in his doctor’s office filing and making appointments for a couple of days. The damage to his car was very minor, as I had only scratched the bumper. My car, on the other hand, had some serious problems.

My fears were larger than they needed to be. My dad was much more graceful than I expected. Through the process I learned to never be afraid of the unknown, as things are rarely as bad as I expect.

For more unusual experiences, check out Brittany Shaffer’s Sept. 5, 2008 article, Snake escape triggers hysteria: A most unusual experience.