I'm gonna go easy on ya. You're nice. So I won't flame ya. But anyway, I'll try to revise your story:
I was in the car, staring at the car floor. I sat there thinking, "How could this be happening?!". I pondered for answers, yet nothing. Suddenly, Frank, manically driving, takes a sharp turn. My head almost hits the left window, but luckily, my hand was there. He was freaking out, but I don't blame them. Even going at 70 mph, we could still here those deafening sirens. I'm sure we didn't do anything that bad. I sat thinking of reasons why we ran, but it's too late for excuses now. After a couple of minutes of laying there, thinking deep thoughts, I decided, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I gave in. I tried to tell him 3 times to pull over, but he just kept telling me to fuck off. I ended up grabbing the wheel. We fought over it and ended up kissing the light post. The airbags deployed, and our faces smacked straight into them.
"Ryan", he says.
"Yeah?", I ask.