- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
I didn’t mean to. No one says it’s my fault. They say that there was nothing I could have done, and that I did the right thing. But I think they are wrong.
“Bye Sara! Have fun!” I called out.
I watched as my sister drove away into a black jeep. The license plate had been specialy engraved. ROCK 43 it said. We had gotten it special for her birthday. That was today. We waved her good bye as she went off the her friends for a “Tutoring Lesson”. They were throwing her a surprise party. I walked back inside, my arm around by best friend, Jake.
“Just go! I don’t want you here anymore!” I had screamed.
“Hey, honey! It’s nothing. I just want to try it. If your parents cared, they wouldn’t have left it out!” he answered, his speech slurring together.
“I don’t care! Your underage. If there was a gun sitting out, would you use it? No! So why are you drinking beer!”
“Fine. If you want me to leave, I will go. I will go find someone else who doesn’t care if that is what I want to do!”
He had stormed out of the house and gotten into his red sports car. He drove away way to fast, and was swerving slightly. I remember running out of the empty house and watching him as he drove down the street. He leaned his head out the window, and yelled back at me;
“Your just being stupid! I doesn’t matter if I drink! Everybody’s doing it! I-”
He was cut off. He had crashed, at the corner into a black jeep. The license plate, said ROCK 43.
Tears streamed down my face as I looked into the coffin. My sister Sara, lay inside. Her dark burnnett hair was combed and someone had put makeup on her. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful. They had also washed the blood away.
Someone squeezed my shoulder. It was my Dad. He too, had tears streaming down his cheek. He was the only person that knew why I was so upset. I was way to mad at myself, no, mad isn’t the right word. I suppose you could say I loathed myself, and couldn’t bring myself to tell my mom exactly what happened. She might agree, that it was my fault. I can’t stand that.
So that’s why I was standing here, tears streaming down my face and loathing myself. And it was all my fault. My friend Amy came over and put her arm around me.
“Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” she said.
I just looked at her. Instantly, I abolished the idea that was already forming in my head. I had planned on killing myself. I didn’t know how, but I did know that I never would do that. After all, why would anyone give up there life, when it could easily be taken, by a drunk driver. Sara wouldn’t want me to. Besides, I had friends that really cared about me.