Before I begin, I would like to thank you every so much for taking the time to read this. Hello, my name is Jack. I work for minimum wage am an avid motorcyclist. Life isn't the best at the moment. In fact it's down right miserable. At first I was ecstatic for the job, especially in this day and age when they're rather hard to come by. But then the monotony of working life came through in full force. Working till 3-4 am some nights, it was a rarity that I left before mid-night. I was regularly called in on days off, having regularly trek 8 miles and back on foot to work 10+ hour shifts for minimum wage. Ten plus hours of, and I was called this regularly by other employee's, being 'The Bitch'. What does this involve you ask? Well, it means that I had to do whatever people wanted, when they wanted. To quote an old saying, they said "Jump!", I replied "How high?". It wasn't at all enjoyable. And I endured such torture for months with the end game of eventually buying my own motorcycle, and so it came to pass. I still remember the child like emotions it had stirred up in me. I was over the moon, all the blood, sweat and tears had payed off. I was happy, I rode her for 300 miles in my first week of ownership, more in the second, and the third week was shaping up to be even better. The sun was shining, the weather was lovely all week. Life was fantastic. One day, a few friends had come to a local area, only a 40 minute journey from where I live, and I elected to go and see them. So, on my baby I got and headed off. Then it all went pear shaped. Whilst over taking a truck, a car in front of that lorry pulled into my lane, and braked. Hard. They had failed to see the traffic in my lane, and me in their near side mirror. After pulling into my lane, with me being far to close for the manoever. They breaked. Needless to say, not matter how hard I pulled my break lever, it was over. I collided with the rear right of the car and flew over the handle bars, rolling into the path of the high-sider I was overtaking. From start to finish, all it took was 5 seconds. I finished rolling like a rag doll and insticivally sat up. The lorry driver, who managed to stop before hitting me, climbed out of his cab and ran over to ask if I was okay. The driver of the car, who had stopped further up the road, well, her passengers tune was rather different. The actual driver was not able to speak English, but her passenger, one of five might I had, was able to converse with me. Before I had even dragged my self off the tarmac I was bombarded with "You're fault! You're fault! You hit us!" As I clambered to my feet, she begins to badger me for my insurance details. Someone who had the curtsy to stop had rang the police. I stepped over my bike, an absolute wreck at this point and limped over to the driver, who was surround by five other people, only one of whom could converse with me. They showed me some damaged paint on the bak of the car, and slight dent where the headlight is. He friend carried on her relentless requests for various details. The police came, they went. Nothing happed after that. They drove off, whilst my pride and joy was wheeled home in a recovery van. I was in tears. Seeing her on the drive way of my home, seeing moths of miserable, back breaking work was in smashed in a thousand pieces in front of me. Destroyed, I was heart broken. "At least you're okay, bikes are replaceable." A lot of people said that. But was it? It had made my life infinitely harder. I couldn't afford to replace it, and now work was going to get harder due to the injuries I had sustained. To me, it was most certainly irreplaceable. Despite what could have happened, I'd bruised my back, and skinned both knees to the point where walking was extremely uncomfortable. But I still had to go to work, after all, how was I supposed to pay for repairs. Only, I can't get a bus to work, so that involves walking, 8 miles there, and 8 miles more back again. Everyday. The injuries I had sustained made no difference, I was still the bitch. Except I was a struggling bitch. I can't see my girlfriend, who's in Hull, and I haven't seen her since the start of May, or any friends. And all the work I had done, and nearly my life, was wasted, due to one person who couldnt look in their mirror. I have only set a goal because it made me. Please, any money would be greatly appriechiated. Anything to just help me through how tough the next few months will be. I will be forever greatful and with in your debt. Wrds just can not describe how much help it would be. I hate having to ask for money, but I have no other choice. Thank you once again for reading this. Best wishes, Jack.