I Bought A Used Dashcam From eBay. It Contain Footage Of A Car Accident That Hasn't Happened Yet.

I Bought A Used Dashcam From eBay. It Contain Footage Of A Car Accident That Hasn't Happened Yet.

​I’m a safe driver. I’ve never even had a speeding ticket. But after seeing those Russian dashcam compilations online, I decided to buy one for insurance purposes. I found a cheap, high-end model on eBay. The seller was listed as "Anonymous," and the description just said: Works perfectly. Don't need it anymore.

​It arrived yesterday. I plugged it into my computer to format the SD card before installing it in my Honda Civic.

​There was already one file on the card.

​It was labeled: FINAL_RECORDING.mp4

Date: October 24, 2025. (Tomorrow's date).

Time: 08:45 AM.

​I chuckled. "Glitchy timestamp," I thought. I clicked play, expecting to see the previous owner’s driveway or a boring commute.

​The video opened.

​My heart stopped.

​The camera was mounted on the dashboard of a Honda Civic. My Honda Civic. I recognized the fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror. I recognized the crack in the windshield on the passenger side.

​The car was driving down Route 9—the exact road I take to work every single morning.

​The radio was playing "Bohemian Rhapsody." I listen to that station every morning.

​"This is a prank," I whispered, my hands shaking. "How did they get footage of my car?"

​I watched the screen. The timestamp ticked forward. 08:44:30 AM.

​In the video, the car approached the intersection of Main and 4th. The light was green. The car proceeded through.

​Suddenly, from the right side of the screen, a massive blue semi-truck blew the red light.

​There was no time to brake.

​The video captured everything. The crunch of metal. The shattering of glass. The camera spun wildly as the car flipped. Then, it landed upside down.

​The audio was the worst part.

For ten seconds, there was silence. Then, a low, gurgling moan.

"Mom... help me..."

​It was my voice.

​Then, the video cut to black.

​I sat in my chair, paralyzed. I looked at the calendar on my wall. October 23rd.

I looked at the clock. 10:00 PM.

​The accident in the video happens tomorrow morning at 8:45 AM.

​"I won't drive," I decided instantly. "I'll call in sick. I'll stay home. I’ll break the loop."

​I felt a wave of relief. It was simple. If I don't get in the car, the accident can't happen.

​I went to bed, but I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned until morning.

At 8:00 AM, my phone rang.

​It was my boss. "Hey, I know you usually drive in, but we have a huge emergency. The server room is flooding. I need you here NOW. It’s life or death for the company."

​"I can't," I said. "I can't drive today."

​"Then take an Uber! I don't care. Just get here!" He hung up.

​I called an Uber. A blue sedan pulled up at 8:30 AM.

I got in the back seat. "Route 9, please," I told the driver.

​We drove. I checked the time. 8:40 AM. We were safe. I wasn't in my car. I was in a stranger's car. The prophecy was wrong.

​We approached the intersection of Main and 4th.

The light was green.

​"Wait!" I yelled. "Slow down!"

​The driver looked at me in the rearview mirror. "Relax, buddy. Green light."

​We entered the intersection.

I looked to the right.

​There was no semi-truck. The road was empty.

​I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Thank God."

​Then, from the left, a car swerved into our lane, heading straight for us head-on.

It was a Honda Civic.

My Honda Civic.

​I saw the driver.

It was me.

The "me" in the other car looked terrified. He was holding a dashcam in his hand, trying to mount it while driving.

​He swerved to avoid something that wasn't there and slammed head-first into my Uber.

​The last thing I saw before the world went black was my own face crashing into me.

​I realized too late. The video wasn't showing me being hit by a truck. The video was recorded by me, in the timeline where I decided to drive. But by trying to change it, I put myself in the path of the crash anyway.

​Fate doesn't have a detour.