A morning like any other
On a morning like any other, the sun was just rising. The sky was still a little sleepy. The city was slowly waking up and, like many November mornings, the street was already wet from the rain before the day even began.
This academic year, I decided to cycle to my school, which is 2km from my home. A bit of exercise, a breath of fresh air, all while doing a little something for the planet.
So, like every morning at 7:30 am, I go down the stairs of my student room to find my bike, which has spent the night under its cover. And like every morning, even the rainiest and windiest ones, I'm about to start my day with my bike.
A day that I'm about to start that's not like any other.
And then the rain gets involved
This morning, like many mornings when the weather is bad, I find my trusty steed in a tangle. And that's not an exaggeration. After scratching my hands to get my bike out of this unfortunate situation, I notice that my front brake is no longer responding.
I'm furious. I blame the wind and the bad weather, but I don't have time to walk to class or I'll be late.
So, like every other morning, I hop on my bike and set off to tackle the streets that are starting to wake up.
I go up my street as usual. The rain starts to fall, but I'm well protected under my K-way and helmet. Despite everything, I have to start climbing my first hill of the day. First effort, and it's not the last. But this little morning effort does me good and calms my anger. Nevertheless, I'm worried about the use of my brakes. The first one wasn't working very well, and now the second one isn't responding.
Arriving at the main crossroads, I manage to stop as best I can and tackle the second hill of the day. The ground is slippery, the city still dark, fortunately my bike is well lit, and I arrive at the top of the second stage of the morning in a sweat.
At this point, the cycle path narrows to join the road. However, due to road works, the pedestrian crossing that usually runs alongside the cycle path is now inaccessible. And at that moment, a student emerges in front of me, her umbrella in hand, and she faces me and continues her way. Continues her way as if the road belonged to her. As if I were able to avoid her.
What she doesn't know is that I have no brakes.
Cycling without brakes
I panic, ring my bell, try to make her understand that I can't avoid her and that I can't brake.
But it's too late, the girl is caught between the road and the barriers marking the construction site.
Instinctively, I can't run into her, so I avoid the danger, as any human would have done, and I turn the handlebars.
And suddenly everything goes dark.
Back among us
The rest of the story was told to me by the witnesses who saw the scene. When I avoided the girl in front of me, I swerved onto the road, and the car passing by didn't have time to react before I was already on its windshield. Being on a speed bump, its speed wasn't high, and I simply did a magnificent somersault, crashing into the car. A magnificent somersault under this rainy sky. I don't know if it was just a somersault, as I lost consciousness when my head hit the ground and plunged me into complete darkness.
That day, I was lucky. Being well dressed for the season, I suffered few scrapes, and the impact wasn't too violent, so nothing was broken. But more than anything that day, I avoided any serious head injury thanks to my helmet.
I've never loved it as much as when I woke up in the emergency room. The doctors told me that things could have gone badly and that I was lucky. On the other hand, I'm not proud of myself. Even though I was protected, I put three people in danger that day. The pedestrian, the motorist, and myself. Because I should never have used a bike with faulty brakes.
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