Seat belts do more harm than good.

And better off being thrown clear of the crash.

I heard something like that once from somewhere, someone. Was it from a colleague or just a lucky passing-by idiot? I say lucky since he probably doesn't own a vehicle harmful enough to be equipped with a seat belt, hence why lucky, he won't try it at home... or road.

When the government forces a law on its people, the expected reaction is dissatisfaction, and rightfully so. Especially in the case of laws touching one's owned private property. So it is not surprising that people have some sort of animosity towards said laws, which in this case the use of seat belts.

However what prompted some not bright people to even think that in event of a crash accident; getting ejected through the windshield is a more favorable outcome than just remaining in the car, Is none other than Hollywood; movies, series, and CGI animations. So it is only expected from people with an unhealthy dose of unreality in their grey matter to believe themself capable of beating a grizzly bear in a fistfight or chokehold a lion to death. Compared to that, the unrealistic belief in their capability of not dying without a seat belt seems less delusional and almost common knowledge, for these people of course.

I took it in a comical note the first time I heard of this nonsense, yet, unfortunately, it is not a joke. It is beyond me, how they thought crashing head first into a wall, an object beside the road, or even just the road itself, at 80 kilometers per hour is not a cause for concern. To put the matter into perspective it is like falling from the sixth or seventh floor into the hard asphalt. You might not die but you won't be intact either.

While being involved in a crash at that speed with the seat belt on can also result in some damage, it is in no way comparable. The emergency medical technicians will likely be treating you for bruises from the belt, abrasions from the airbag, and maybe even a broken bone or two. If you weren’t wearing the belt, however, they might just be covering you with a tarp, and moving on to patients who they can help.

After all, car accidents are no laughing matter, hence why all of the safety systems and measures like seat belts, airbags, or crash tests.

However, a less known measure or more accurately to call it a cell or region is the crush zone. Unlike the seat belt or the airbag, the crush zone is the component of a vehicle's bodywork. The crush zone was designed to absorb the energy in a crash by transferring some of the vehicle's kinetic energy into a controlled crumpling upon impact while preserving the integrity of the passenger cabin, reducing the amount that is felt by passengers inside the vehicle.

Now, where am I getting into with this long rambling on a fucking car's safety measures, you probably wondering? Well not hard to guess if you know the typical crash zone's location. For those who don't, it is usually the front and the rear of a vehicle. The front of an ordinary vehicle is where the engine and all essential components are, and the part that commonly and most often suffers from crashes. While the rear part is usually the trunk of a vehicle, aside from being part of the crumble zone, it is the vehicle's main storage or cargo compartment.

In the event of a collision, anything within the crumble zone is considered expendable, be it the engine at the front, or the luggage at the rear of the vehicle.

...expendable.

Something not important and can easily be replaceable.

An object you can buy with money for instance is replaceable, or something you wouldn't have that much regret in case it gets lost.

Clothes are expendable, food is expendable, electronics are expendable, and corporate slaves are expendable.

...but I am not expendable.

I thought as I felt the hard bottom of the jeep's trunk against my hurting buttocks. Adding another damage to the growing list of injuries on my body. Had it even reached twenty four hours since waking up in this world?

What is called again, those who always break new things?

I wanted to sigh but kept it in, I tried to shift to a more comfortable position instead. What I would give for a nice comfy couch right now, and a warm tea would not be refused either.

"Touch anything you shouldn't, and it wouldn't be my fist that you will get in your face this time." A grumpy voice echoed from my right, the rear of the passenger's side seat.

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Not a big fan of tea, to be honest, I always thought it was made for the grannies, the vegetarian, or anyone British, I swear the last one had it in their blood. But now for some unknown reason, I found myself craving a cup of tea.

Well, the reason for the craving is not entirely unknown to me, though it is more accurate to say; I have some educated guesses with no prospect for definite confirmation.

The reason is the same as the comforting feeling the pocket watch brings me. The previous owner of this body lived for more or less twenty years. He developed attachments, habits, likes, and dislikes to everything surrounding him in life. Though he is no more, his habits are still ingrained in his body, which, now, I am in possession of.

I do not know if he died before my soul took over the body, hell I am not even sure if I died. We might as well have swapped bodies, a disturbing possibility.

That is also one of the reasons for using a new name rather than my last life's name. Regardless of how much I want to still be the me of my last life, I am not. The spirit can affect the body, and the other way around is also true. Stress can cause heart disease and how sports and other forms of physical activity can ease depression or anxiety. Of course, these are diseases and mental illnesses and are the extreme cases that have been proven by science.

But small things also affect one's personality. As a matter of fact, it is the accumulation of small things that make up a habit, over time the habit becomes a trait, strong traits then take root and begin to grow into character.

And this body is engraved with strong habits, it wasn't even two days and I can already feel a slight difference; wanting to drink tea for instance.

Fighting against it? Easier said than done. We all have traits or habits that we are not too happy with but didn't do much about them, since it would be too hard, lack of time, shortage of money, or suchlike excuses.

And, while it may appear to be bad, it can be worse, such as having a disability, being elderly, or god forbid, baldness.

Getting affected by the body's habits, by no means implies that I am turning into the previous owner of this body or that my turning into someone entirely different. It just means I am fitting in more with the body and merging while absorbing the behavior into mine. Think of it as putting on exotic leather shoes that are not made for you, you have to take some time to adapt them to your size. Then again you can just buy some that are to your size, however, you can't do that with a body. It is neither a question of volition nor opinion.

There is no choice.

Grit your teeth and live with it. The experience itself seems unrealistic, but otherwise such is life; you can't control what you can't control. As much as I want to look up at the sky, rage in my eyes, fists clenched, and swear dramatically to conquer this world, I am, unfortunately, neither stupid enough nor delusional enough to believe I am some sort of the main character in some bastard's book.

"Friend Vic, I heard that vodka was made by a broke alcoholic farmer in a secluded village in Solonoy's northwest, but I am not sure if it is true."

Regardless, all of this doesn't matter. Breaking my head over what I have no control over is a waste of time. Am I happy with it? The answer will change nothing. The right question would be what I need to do.

I rubbed my eyes. While the headache leased a bit, it was still there, hammering my brain with every heartbeat. I am in such a mess right now, everything hurts.

Sleep.

Sleep is what I need not tea, not a couch... alright maybe a couch, a couch can be used for sleeping.

"... he said the farmer made in the wedding of his son, using potatos, potatos, can you believe it, ah yes at that time only cattle eats potatos, and isn't as normal for people to eat it."

Three days, no, five, I will sleep for five days straight. I will need some sleeping medications for that, and some pills for the headache whilst you are at it. Quite unfortunate that Bell didn't have any in her medical kit.

I opened my eyes and looked through the jeep's trunk window. I couldn't see anything, just trees, branches, and snow a lot of snow. Not long after we departed as per Alec's words a snowstorm unleashed itself. The sound of snow pellets against the metal roof echoed throughout the small car. I like the sound, it is calming, and it's a feeling I share with this body. It's also made it less degrading to be stuffed in a fucking trunk of a fucking car.

I tried not to sigh but couldn't stop the vaporous breath from leaving my mouth. The jeep is equipped with air conditioning but based on the way Alec is guarding the radio, turning it on seems less likely.

"... for us in the south, you can get your first shot at fifteen, twelve if you are an orphan, what about you, friend Vic, how old were you on your first drink?"

"I don't drink." I absentmindedly answered the chatbox seating in the middle seat.

The jeep jolted violently over a bump in the road, causing me to bounce up and down, my poor buttock taking more hits, that doesn't sound right. Lucky for me I do not have sensitivity to motion sickness.

I wasn't given much information since joining this crew, but I did glean a thing or two from their conversation more specifically; Zane who doesn't stop talking, and Eric who doesn't stop swearing, but none of it is relevant. Knowing the best five alcoholic beverages in the south is in no way helpful.

All I know is the fucking road isn't asphalt and that our destination is way within the forest. I did ask once, but the answers are either a question, silence, or an angry swear. Yeah, needless to say, Eric wasn't the most cheerful when he heard I was joining them. You would think I had stolen his chicken or something, zero emotional maturity. I am starting to worry about his future, he won't go far if he doesn't achieve some level of tolerance. I mean I just grazed him with some steel, and he is all over yelling to the sky, he should learn from someone with a high level of emotional maturity, boundless tolerance, and magnetic charisma.

...he should learn from me.

Even after getting my nose destroyed, my cheek scared, my head almost cracked like a watermelon, and got shoved into a narrow, rough trunk. I haven't even once raised my voice, scowled, scoffed, complained, or shown any sign of dissatisfaction with any of their behavior or the fucking pain all over my body. Not even once.