I flew onto the hood then rolled off stunned at my stupidity and inattention

When I was a child my family moved a lot; I didn't understand why and that this was not normal until I was older.  I think what jump started my realization was when I was injured looking for my father; I was 13 and we were being evicted.  The day started out normal enough; it was summer, humid and hot and I could hear the cars flying past on the Pasadena Freeway.  The air had that heavy quality, bright but with a film over it.  My mother was confined to a hospital bed; she had MS and couldn't walk or even get out of bed at this point in time. I didn't know where my father was; he had been missing since the night before.  I knew we had to move again and that I would miss my room because it was bright, sunny and decorated with animal posters; it felt secure to me and I was packing reluctantly.  We had found another house a couple of blocks away, it wasn't as nice but I would have my own room and still be able to attend the same Jr. High School; I was thinking about this when the phone rang.  My mother answered and immediately her voice raised; she hung up the phone crying saying that we had to have the rent to the new house in an hour or they were giving it to someone else.  My dad had the money, where is he, I had to find him. I had a pretty good idea where to look so I hopped on my bike and started to pedal toward the bar that was a least two miles away, if not more.  The whole time I was asking why? why? why?, not paying attention to the world around me.  I was headed toward Colorado Blvd, (you know the route the Rose Parade takes), I was almost there and the bar was less than a block away when BAM!!! I road in front of an ally and was hit by the car coming out.  I flew onto the hood then rolled off stunned at my stupidity and inattention.  The driver jumped out to see if I was dead (you know that's what you would think if you hit someone); I appeared to be OK, they wanted to take me to the hospital anyway.  I was crying almost hysterically; I know I was saying I had to find my Dad, it was important, I had to go.  I jumped on my dented bike and road to the bar, he wasn't there, they hadn't seen him since last night.  I road home, the ride back became harder and harder with each pedal; I was beginning to feel like I had been hit by a car.  Once home I told my Mom what happened, she was concerned and when my father called hours later she told him what had happened.  He was home in 30 min and took me to the E.R. I was so sore I could barely walk and he tried to help but I shrugged his arm off me;  I regret doing that, I wish I hadn't, I wish I had let him hold me.  I was lucky I had a sprained ankle and was badly bruised on the outside but my heart is what hurt the most.  We didn't get the house and ended up living with my father's mother which is another story for another day.