It was him and me in his car. We were 16 years old. On our way out of school, he didn’t stop at a stop sign as he was turning right. I mistakenly mentioned this to him, which happened to not be a good idea. Questioning his driving ability triggered something within him. He was upset, insulting me, angry, telling me I had no right to question him. He kept looking toward me, instead of at the road, the death stare used to put me in my place. The growl to keep me silent. I remained silent, taking what was due to me for daring to question one of his actions.

Then no more than 2 miles from school, he was so focused on punishing me, he didn’t notice the car in front of us with its left blinker on, stopped, waiting to turn. I saw the car ahead stopped, too scared to alert him, fearful of questioning his driving – again.
He turned his face from me and paused from his relentless attack, in time to put on his brakes, but not quick enough to not rear end the car. Our bodies lurched forward upon impact. We were not physically hurt. The passengers in the other car, fellow classmates, were not hurt.
The shock of the accident, and the audience from the other car put a quick halt to his attacks on me.
But then later, there was only one person to blame for the accident – Me. If I hadn’t of questioned his not stopping at the stop sign, mere minutes before, the accident wouldn’t have happened.

In reality this was true.