I drive 18-wheelers up and down the interstate, mostly overnight. Been doing it for most of my life, shipping this and that back and forth. I live on the road, the whole setup in the rear of the cab. It's not much, but I don't think I could stand anything bigger now. Like claustrophobia that goes the other way.

It's a night like this that many less-experienced drivers would seldom work on, by work I mean drive. When you've been going for 20 some years, a heavy rainstorm doesn't bother you that much, even sleep deprived in the early morning. But you have to keep your mind from wondering, or wandering rather. Both apply. I just try to stare at the headlights. Keep my eyes on the road, downing coffee and caffeine pills. You catch up on your sleep between jobs.

So I just glue my eyes to the road, headed south. South is where Jennifer lives. Haven't seen her in weeks. She was always real nice to me, and I don't mind saying she's beautiful if there isn't a stronger word. She's definitely one of the reasons to take this route over others. Jennifer is a bit younger than me, and I can't help but wonder, fantasize really, that she might…you know, get with me or something one day. It's been a while, I could sure-.

The wheels drop out from under me then come up, the force of the truck crushing my waist into my ribcage. Damn. I'm too experienced for this. I let my mind wander, wonder, whatever the hell. The rain and the dark make it impossible to tell what's happening yet. For some reason I glance at the clock. 3:04. And then the headlights glare at me. I'm in oncoming traffic. Christ. Brakes are no good, it's too wet and I'm over 70 mph.

Impact.

An hour passes. The first car is a compact. I think it looks like a young man, 20 at best. The car is so small, it acts like a speed bump to my rear wheels as my trailer starts to fishtail. This kid, he must have been so good to his parents. Born to a loving family. Grew up in a good neighborhood and went to a school where he was popular, not overly so, but he had no playground enemies. He grew up in the same town his whole life. Had the same friends, maybe a girl who he's grown up with together. Maybe they are more than friends now. Maybe they are engaged to be married. Maybe he is on his way to see her now, to surprise her by showing up early to meet her family, driving overnight to save time.

Impact.

A day passes. The second car is a sporty yellow convertible, with a beautiful young lady in the driver's seat, I think. She's in her mid 20's, 26 if I had to guess, and judging by the car and the expensive clothes she seems to be wearing, she's a successful businesswoman. There's no fear in her face now, only this look of determination as she slams brakes, swerves to my inside to try to make it around. It's too dark for her to see that my trailer has gone perpendicular to the road. She never once screams, or appears to give up. Just looks so determined, until her face hits the windshield, then all I see is the spider-web of glass shattered. She might be married. Maybe not. But her father is so proud of her. She bought that car on her own. He would have gotten it for her as a gift for graduating law school, but she already had a job, and she got it on her own. She's six figures now. On her way late from a business meeting, just off the plane, going to surprise daddy for his birthday. Her car drags under the trailer, helping me slow down.

Impact.

A year passes. Car number three is a mini-van, dad's behind the wheel, searching for a way around, more and more losing hope, with his arm outstretched in front of mom. She's not scared, but not like the young woman. She's just sad, sad because of the kids in the back, two boys crying. They don't even know what's going on. The van swerves to my outside, and I don't know what it catches or glances off of, but it half-flips and goes airborne, rotating upside down, off the road, into the woods, and out of my line of sight. Too loud in this weather to hear the crash. I'm guessing dad's an accountant or low-level businessman. Mom used to work, but she quit when the first was born. She stayed home to take care of the boys, and they're her life now. She and dad are high-school sweeties, still as much in love as at senior prom. They make ends meet. The kids are spoiled but well-behaved. They're starting first and second grade next year. Mom and dad are making up on lost time for their last summer vacation, trying to earn an extra day by driving over night.

My truck has hit a tree, actually probably hit a couple before stopping. I'm okay, bruised pretty badly. The clock says 3:04. No, 3:05. It just turned. Turn that to 3:08 and the first ambulance is here. Someone else must have drove by to call it in. They probably got a 4-vehicle call, meaning a couple more units on the way. They'll be unprepared for this though, expecting a fender-bender. The girl under the trailer is a waste of their time. Probably the family is the best start. I imagine the kid won't make it either. Then the cop is here.

Impact.

A lifetime passes. I'll lose my job, whether they fire me or I quit. I'll never find the strength to drive a truck again. Jennifer. Will I subconsciously blame her for this? God, I hope not. Not that blame rests anywhere but on me. Yeah, I'll definitely be fired. Involuntary manslaughter will put me away for a while. I'll plead guilty too. I'm probably flipping burgers in ten years. On welfare. Truckers make a decent haul, but not enough in savings to support a burger-flipper for too long. Especially with the civil suits. I don't think Jennifer will be able to look at me anyway, so I don't need to worry about her. We're counting the death toll at seven.