Road Rage Story Novels & Stories

"The car that hit the victim had a flat tire, and the driver has been taken into custody. He is a member of the city's black mafia." "Okay, I'll be right there." The police excused Harry before knowing for sure he had not said the chronology and this accident, which was allegedly intentional. Sarra had been in the operating room for more than two hours. His condition was horrible. Apart from a broken leg, there were many wounds on his body, but what he was most worried about was his head, which was constantly bleeding.

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and exhaled. “So I pulled up WGN online. They were talking about an older man driving the wrong way. He hit two lawyers and a newly released inmate. Pinned the ex inmate and one lawyer’s leg to the wall. The other got knocked into the street, but didn’t get hit by oncoming traffic.” I frowned. “Okay… so an old person caused an accident. That happens all the time.” She shook her head slowly. “No. You don’t understand.” “Understand what?”

In my peripheral vision, Royce was glancing at me back and forth. I let out a long breath when I lifted my head. "My brother and my dad were in a car accident almost 2 years ago." I paused and pressed my lips together. Royce seemed to be attentive as he drove the car at the right speed. "It turns out that due to overspeeding, the accident happened. My brother drove the car, and my dad was with him on their way to a business meeting. I was there before the car blew up. I saw a man; I thought he might be helping them. But I was wrong. Right after he left, the car blew up. Whenever I'm in a fast car, I still remember how the fire in my brother's car blew up, the scattering debris. That man," I

I gasped as I halted in my thoughts. The cab driver sighed in frustration while we were stuck in the traffic. I glanced at the window adjusting my sunglasses while watching the situation outside. "Couldn't be better?!" I heard the driver scoff in annoyance. He slammed his palms on the steering wheel and groaned. "Huh! Road rage at its finest!"

Looking at my eyes irritates him? Ha! It's his problem, not mine! Why he is blaming it on me? The song on the radio suddenly stopped halfway. The radio host apologized to the listeners for the sudden intrusion as he has urgent news to tell everyone. "We receive hot news just now that there is a robbery in X City Bank. RJ's listeners, especially our dear drivers please be careful and pay attention to Route 86 in the city. Please contact this hotline if you ever see a white minivan Honda odyssey with a plate number ***"

“This Nimgo driver has some nerve. He hit the Valterra, and yet, he demanded to be paid. The kid kicks his door a little, and he talks about putting the other person behind bars? He’s obviously trying to scare the young guy.” “Don’t worry, kid. Take down my number. I’ll testify for you if needed!” “Exactly! I’ve studied some law myself. Damage under five thousand isn’t criminal. You only scratched his trashy Nimgo. How could that possibly be five thousand?” Encouraged, Jason slammed my hood and shouted, “Today, you’ll pay for my car and apologize, or you’re not leaving!” I chuckled coldly and pointed at the approaching traffic cop. “Ask the cop who should be paying. As for apologizing, you b

"Tangina ninyo, you mother*******, useless bunch of shits, mga walang kwenta! If you do not want to live in this world anymore, just die! Die alone! Do not include others in your demise!" He made a middle finger sign to everyone inside the luxury van and get back in his car, then drove away. Everyone is astounded by what they saw. It is a great experience. Road rage in Legazpi Street, Makati City, Metro Manila. They will surely be included in the national news in the Philippine television televised every evening, and they do not want to be interviewed hours before. Inside their minds, they want to be in the Manila International Airport in the soonest possible time to avoid the gush of report

They would even flash the high beams at him constantly. The worst ones would constantly flash and blink the high beams at him. When they finally overtook his car, they would roll down their window and yell profanities at him. For that, Jacob assumed that most drivers in the world all had road rage. However, things were different when he drove the Rolls-Royce Cullinan home earlier. While he was on his way from the Calligraphy and Painting Association to Thompson First, he noticed that all the drivers had been miraculously cured of their road rage issues.

There were arrows painted on the road to guide people back onto the expressway, and before they knew it, they were back at seventy-five miles per hour, on the way to their destination. The closer they got to Wildwood, the worse the traffic got. It was abundantly clear that they were far from the only people down for a beach trip. It was the absolute perfect day for it, so Dillon couldn't blame them. That didn't mean, however, that he was immune to the road rage that it incited in him. Did people not know what blinkers were? Everyone was so damn discourteous and inconsiderate too. Tony sat next to him and tried to keep him calm as he crunched away on potato chips. He had happily devoured his

“You smiled and asked me my name—as if I was just another volunteer.” Guilt swallowed me whole. My throat tightened. Imagining what he went through, thinking all three of us were gone… “But why? Why did we get into that car crash? What happened? As far as I can remember, I always drove carefully. I’d been driving for years without accidents. And with the kids in the car, I’d never take any risks.” “You…” he faltered, “You were in a rage. And the brakes failed. That caused the accident.” “Rage? Brakes failed? Why was I so angry?”