Instead of accidents, you'll never know.

Last night I was driving home, and a giant raccoon ran out in front of my car. It was dark, and it came out of nowhere and I didn't have time to stop, and I hit it. It was the grossest noise ever, and as soon as it happened I just stopped. I wanted to go back but I knew not to. There was nothing I could do and I knew it wouldn't be anything I'd want to see anyhow, so I just stopped. And I broke down. I've never killed anything before. I think maybe I've caught some fish when I was little, but this was different. This was me directly responsible for the death of an animal that would have otherwise just ran over to the other side of the road. I haven't cried that hard for that long about anything in a really long time- Not since I found out my friend had cancer. So I called Nichole, because I knew she'd be awake, and I cried and cried. And she told me it was ok. And she told me maybe the raccoon was TRYING to get run over. I tried to laugh. And she told me it was ok, but it was not ok yet. I drove the rest of the way home in a daze. I am still upset. I thought,

Jess. It's just a raccoon

but it's not JUST a raccoon. It doesn't matter whether it was a raccoon, or a cat, or a chipmunk.

I killed it. Me and my car.

Stupid cars.

Stupid work.

If I wouldn't have been so selfish and stopped for a beer after work, things would have been different.


I would have been driving home 30 minutes earlier. That raccoon would have had a chance. All these things run through my head. I feel guilty.

I am guilty



Jess, it's JUST a raccoon.

I know it was just an accident. I'll just tell myself that until I believe it.




I know I might be overreacting, and I know this might sound silly, but this is something I'm genuinely upset about, and I felt the need to address it.