Winter Driving Descriptive Writing

I never did like driving in the winter. I was almost always running late, time just tended to escape me. In the winter, everything required a sluggish attentiveness that I didn’t have the tolerance for. Driving had always been a tranquil and lulling thing for me, up until I hit solid black ice.
I never expected to spin out of control like that and I was so sure that the only way this could end was with my car upside down in the middle of the road. My knuckles were white from gripping the bitter cold leather steering wheel, which felt like ice even on my gloved hands. I could hear my dad in the back of my head, reminding me to very slowly press on my brake.
My car slowed, but it was still trapped in the wrong lane, with traffic heading right
towards my driver’s side door. I turned my head only slightly towards the oncoming traffic and my heart dropped. A gargantuan semi was headed straight for the driver’s side door, my door, the door that seemed to be the only compact entity that stood between me and this monstrous machine.
My first thoughts when my eyes met the headlights, that could only be feet away now, were my baby brother in the back seat and my best friend beside me. Luckily, they were both on the passenger side and this gave me a breath of hope. The two could possibly make it through what I already knew would be my death. Petrified, I turned to look out my windshield.
For a millisecond, everything stopped; the wretched sound of my best friend’s horror, the loud weeping of a baby who had never before experienced fear in the backseat, the sound of shrieking brakes, the damp smell of wintertime and snow mixed with the warm vanilla smell my car had.
It all stopped and I was left to take in the exquisiteness of the morning in front of me. Snowflakes fell and landed on my windshield, losing their form and becoming petite droplets of ice-cold water. The sun peaked through the shadowy grey clouds in the sky, hitting the hood of my car and illuminating the road in front of me. Cars were lined up, people were stopped. I knew they were watching me, all while I was taking in the loveliness of this morning. It distracted me to a point of almost forgetting that there was a semi-truck pummeling towards me, with no ability to halt or even slow down. All I could do was appreciate the beauty of winter, which I had never been able to do before due to my stubborn hatred for cold weather.
As I turned my head back to the left of me, it all came back; the screaming, the crying, the honking of horns and the semi’s brakes still squealing in an attempt to stop himself before he hit me. The headlights seemed to move so slow now. They just seemed to be creeping along like a predator sneaking up on its prey. My weak Subaru was an antelope in a grassy field, being hunted by a lioness who had the task of taking dinner back to her cubs. I could do nothing about the tragedy
my future could entail in only seconds.
I didn’t feel pain when the glass shards flew from where my window used to be. I didn’t feel anything when my whole body jerked, my head moving towards where the semi had just collided into my door. I only felt us moving, sliding down the street even further. I heard that unpleasant yelping of the semi molding the side of my car to fit its sturdier shape. The cold, which had been sealed out by windows, now filled the car. The sick smell of gas and smoke filled my now burning nose and mouth. I gasped for air and looked down at my hands, filled with bloody remains of glass. A metallic taste filled my whole mouth, and I could feel the thick, red liquid slowly trickling out of the corner of my mouth. My whole chest burned and my head ached more than it ever had. My left leg felt crumpled and fragmented way past a point of mending, as did the two hands I had held out to try and push the semi away. Pain suddenly shot through every centimeter of my body, aching, hurting. With a rough breath in, the world went dark.