Leaving for school bright eyed and bushy tailed every morning can sometimes be a challenge when the clouds are a bleak grey that tempt you to return to the warm sanctuary you call your bedroom. I take the exact same route to school, at practically the same time nearly everyday, but one dreadful day, fate had a detour planned for me instead.
As I pull out of my driveway, I turn up the radio and slip on my seatbelt, as this is all part of my daily routine. It was a dark and dreary morning in Western Kansas, as the sun was no where to be seen behind the omniscient clouds. The trees were eerily still, and there was not even a slight breeze in the cool, morning air. Traveling a mile or so out of town and I have yet to see another cheery soul on the morning road. As I descend farther on my voyage to the treacherous school, I come up and around the winding road past Page City and past the dirty brown milo fields mixed in with the saddest looking corn crop I have ever laid my eyes on.
The journey is nearly a quarter done, but fate had another path for me other than making it to school on time. Coming up the not-so-steep hill of the Western Kansas plains, I start singing along with the marvelous song on the radio, not knowing that in only a few mere seconds, things would certainly be different. Barreling out of the north ditch, clearly on an unknown mission, comes a deer. Not any old deer, but a trophy buck. Growing up in a heavily deer populated community, one of the first thing my parents taught me was to never swerve, so what do I do? Brace myself for the impact and pray that it'll all be okay. *BOOM*. The impact was like I was ramming into pole, clearly a solid hit. Unwillingly barreling into the deer completely demolished not only my 2007 white Dodge Caliber, but surely mutilated the poor, unfortunate deer. Upon the sudden impact, the deer crumpled on its hooves, forcing my tiny car to drive over the deer's crumpled remains, and watch it roll down into the ditch as if it was a avalanche down a mountain, but with much less force and a lot less snow.
Pulling off onto the side of the road, I call my father in a panic, having the first words out of my mouth be, 'Dad, I hit a deer!' I assure him that although I'm fine,