She woke suddenly from the dream and stared into the darkness of her bedroom.
It took her a moment to remember where she was, and to recognize the familiar shapes of her canopy bed, her desk in the corner, her stereo atop the bookcase.
She could still see the oncoming headlights and hear the squealing brakes, struggling to stop.
‘I know how I'm going to die,’ was her first coherent thought. ‘I'm crossing a street… the pavement is damp… and the headlights come at me from my right side…’
She flipped on her bedside lamp and reached for her journal.