There was a car crash outside our house last night.

We live right on the South Circular (a big ringroad that goes right round the south of London). It was about 11.15pm. I was reading some webpage or other in the corner of the living room; the girl was reading her book.

Then, a screech of tires, and a loud, dull, boom.

I waited for something to come through our front window.

Nothing did. I went to the curtains. There, just across the road, was a red car, on its back. Glass across the road. Another car, pranged, by the little junction outside our house. I guess the red car had turned safely, and the brown car was coming up the road far too fast – loads of cars take it far too fast at nighttime.

I think people were OK, but I have no idea. The driver of the red car had got out himself, and just had a cut to his head; he said his son was still in the car. They eventually got him out of the back seat through the back window.

We went inside after five minutes; there were loads of witnesses and not much anyone could do. It’s a very busy road and does scare me a little at times. We were both a little shaken up by it, and we didn’t even see it happen.

We told each other we’d look after each other. Then we went to bed.