The muffled buzz of my phone beneath my pillow woke me up. Half asleep I answered the call and quietly muttered, “Yes” to his invitation. Dragging myself off the comfort of my bed I made my way to my sister’s room and shook my sleeping sister. We had an hour to get ready, but if I have known what was about to happen, I wouldn’t have bothered.

Again the familiar buzz of my phone raised me to my feet. We tiptoed down the stairs and out the back door being careful not to wake my parents. Outside awaiting us was the small white buggy which somehow we managed to cram seven people inside. A stranger in the car alerted me. He seemed to be trouble in every aspect of word but the familiar voices of those I trusted settled the uneasy churning in my stomach. The car came to an abrupt stop in front of his house and everyone raced out of the stuffy car and in through the single chipped white home. Everything went smoothly until someone decided to bring out the devil’s nectar and of course my problematic sister gulped it down like it was water. Eleven shots later she was out and we laid her down on the leather couch. Distracted by my current boyfriend, I paid little attention to my snoring sister. It wasn’t until it was much too late that I realized her, her attacker and her innocence we gone. The scene displayed before me is a memory that will haunt me to the end of my days. There she laid in a pool of her own vomit the only thing protecting small frame from the cool bitter air was a thin blanket. My heart stopped I felt the color drain from my face as I started into the now fully dilated pupils of barely conscious baby sister.
I had betrayed her and for that I will never forgive myself. We all desperately tried to wake her, but our attempts failed, an ice cold bath, forcing our fingers down her throat to remove the toxins. After an hour of trying to sober her up, we had to carry her down the stairs and out into the car. The whole 10 minute drive I tried talking to her to keep her awake but she’d kept passing out. I got to my house and single handedly walked towards the house her limp body in my arms and watched her continuously vomit by 6:30 a.m. she was asleep.
When she found out what happened, she became very depressed. She wouldn’t talk and I could hear her in the bathroom taking a shower crying. She’d fall asleep in tears, and started to hate the male species. I could have stopped her from drinking and could have just ignored the call and stayed home, but because of my poor decisions my sister will never feel the same and will have a different perspective in life.