I’m driving down the freeway in a car. I’m following Mel somewhere. Close to Mel is a car that looks like a Subaru WRX that’s been customized quite a bit. The top is orange and the body is army green. There’s another car that I’m keeping my eye on because the driver is driving erratically. I looks like an old beat up Acura. It’s been lowered a bit. It’s white. It looks like the kind of car you might find in Mexico. Mel is in the #1 lane and next to him in the #2 lane is the Subaru that I’m following. The Acura is behind me. Suddenly, the Acura comes up in the #3 lane beside the Subaru and crashes into it. The Subaru does a nose dive right in front of me and I see parts of it flying off. I swerve to dodge it by going into the #1 lane and just miss it. I keep driving, kind of freaked out, wondering what to do next. Should I pull over to the center divider or over to the emergency shoulder on the right. I decide to pull into the median because if I need to help the guy, I’m going to have easier access to him from there. I find a place to pull over and have to do a bit of maneuvering to avoid some tires and stuff in the center divider. Some guys are there anxious that I’m going to hit something at such a high speed but I have it under control. I get out of the car and start running back to the crash site while trying to text 911. I’m doing a terrible job of texting and can’t get the phone to cooperate with me. I arrive at a sort of station where I find the guy who was driving the Subaru. He’s in his early 20’s, caucasian, and has bleach blond hair. He’s holding his head. I tell him that I’m going to call 911. He tries to persuade me not to. I ask him if has lost consciousness, even for a moment. He says, “Yes.” I tell him that I’m definitely calling 911.
Emotions: It’s intense but I feel I did everything correctly.
Mel and I did move all of our furniture last night. He was also being rather crabby which was getting on my nerves.