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Rated: 13+ · Other · Experience · #1562154
A story told from the eyes of a boy and the lips of a man.
              As I felt the cool wind slap against my face I realized that it, in comparison, was nothing to the pain of millions of pieces of shattered glass scattering like darkness when encountered with realization, darting into and around my face. The engine smoked relentlessly before my eyes as I ran to the opposite side of the irresponsibly destructed car. Fumes set my nostrils on fire and my eyes watered with tears of disbelief while my anxiety refused to allow me to move towards the destruction, but never the less my adrenalin was there to release me from the restrictions my mind had suffered from the devastation.
         The windowless door on the right side revealed to me an image I couldn’t accept. My intoxicated friend slumped in the passenger seat groans helplessly, head rocking to his left side while the hand of his right arm dangled, blood dripping, out of the door to what was once my hardest earned possession. The passenger in the back seat fled from the scene as the sirens got closer leaving traces of blood from his face in a puddle on my cars floor, not nearly deep enough for me to drown myself in sorrow and escape the nights’ inevitable consequences.
         My vehicle hugged the pole tight due to its velocity and reckless handling. Stronger than the inanimate bond between the car and the pole was the one between my friend and as I struggled desperately and painfully to remove him from the downfall of our earlier seemingly perfect night. My collar bone assaulted me repeatedly as every motion I attempted to make was never without the hope that it would be my last.
         The inability to move my left arm was paranoiac but none the less; real. My longest known friend remained conscienceless across my lap, and regret hovered above me precipitating relentlessly. One party. One text message. One mistake. Three things we have all either participated received or chose to make, now nothing more but (in combination) regret. My head spun at 70 miles an hour before it collided with a 25mph reality much like my car itself.
         Once I accept the realization that my responsibility to choose not to drink was only a miniscule idea of self accomplishment buried beneath my useless craving to see time rewind, it is clear to me that it was my irresponsibility still, that attempted to abduct the life of my closest friend from right under the nose of my pathetic security.
         The night fades away second by second until I am jerked awake in a bed not my own, by an ominous white light. A light of reality. A light who screams a lesson of life into my ears as my mind captures the pitch of its every screeching word. A light of maturity.
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