Panicked, you open a small latch on your dash and jam the eject button. As an optional extra feature, most people you spoke to had suggesting just getting a car with seatbelts instead, but this option made the most sense to you. Now you're really glad you got it. As soon as you jam your thumb on the big red button, you're shot high into the air.
Below you, the car swerves and wrecks into a guardrail as you soar up and up. It's only a moment before you start to descend again, first slowly then faster. While you are still glad for the eject option, you now think you should have gotten a parachute or something, too.
Luckily, a patch of trees with thick leafy branches breaks your fall. The sturdy branches break your bones in a few places, as well, but you're not dead. You may be dying; you're not sure. You're lying on the ground now, the broken bits of your ejection seat still strapped to you. One arm is visibly twisted in an unnatural way and your legs neither look nor feel right; you don't think they could bear your weight, but you can't quite conceptualize how to get them into position to do so, anyway. Your vision has narrowed to a tiny pinpoint of light and you can't tell if what you're hearing is sound or just the pain ringing through your head.