What I Don't Remember

I remember two of my friends and I going out for wings and drinks. I remember buying some beer for the road. I remember driving down dusty dirt roads, singing and laughing and taking pictures. I remember stopping at a bar for more beer and shots. And then I remember nothing.

I don't remember getting in my car to take my friends to another bar. I don't remember the road conditions, or how fast I was driving. I don't remember my car hitting that giant rock on the side of the road. I don't remember my car flying through the air, flipping as we gained distance. I don't remember my friends screaming in fear, or them flying out the windows. I don't remember my car hitting the ground on it's roof, throwing the axle and breaking the windows. And that's the end of what I don't remember.

I came to about 10 hours later, still drunk from the night before. The realization of what happened hadn't hit me yet. Then I heard a blood curdling scream, and I knew something had gone horribly wrong. As my disorientation began to subside, I looked around me and found that I was laying on a bed of glass and debris, on the ceiling of my overturned Jeep. I began to move, searching for a way out. I saw that my rear passenger window was big enough for me to crawl through; the only thing obstructing my way was the accessory to this accident. A bag full of beer cans and bottles, some empty and some unopened, was sitting in my path. When I slowly eased my way to the bag, I picked it up to throw it and realized that my worst nightmare had begun. I got out of the window and tried to stand, but the vertigo wouldn't allow that. I sat for a minute so I wouldn't throw up, then turned to my left and started crawling up the steep embankment. As I got to the top, I surveyed the damage. The contents of my vehicle were strewn everywhere. When I saw the mess in front of me, I wanted to run. I wanted to hide and never be found. But as I would soon find out, the worst was yet to come. I turned back to the car and saw a frightening scene. My rear axle was was 20 feet away from the vehicle, and there was glass was everywhere. It was like something from a horror movie. I began to walk down the road to pick up the things thrown from my vehicle, and then I saw it. I saw the blood stain on the road. Scanning further down, I saw my friend lying there, laying on her stomach with her head resting on her arm, almost as if she were sleeping. I prayed to God that she was just sleeping. But as I dropped to my knees, I knew.

Everything around me stopped. I got tunnel vision, and my ears began to ring harder as I crawled toward her. When I got to her, all I could do was stare. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, I couldn't feel. I told myself she was only sleeping, but I still couldn't bring myself to touch her. I knew what the truth was.

This whole time my other friend had been screaming for help, I'm sure because she was in pain. But it was so distant, and I had no idea where to begin even looking for her.

A couple moments later, a man drove up. I thought maybe he was on his way to work. I was laying on the ground under a blanket I had luckily found due to the fact that I was near hypothermia. The man drove up to me, looked at my friend laying on the road and asked if she was ok. "She's just sleeping", I replied, trying to push the reality away. He looked at me with sympathy, but like I was crazy. I'm sure he knew what was really going on, but I couldn't admit that to him. He said he was going to call for help and drive away.

A few minutes later the ambulances arrived, along with the state police and fire and rescue. I was loaded up into the back of the ambulance, asked some questions by a trooper, stuck with IVs and examined for injuries. As the door was closing so I could be taken to the Life Flight helicopter, I heard one of the paramedics say, "...and we have one DOA." Refusing to believe the truth the whole flight to the hospital, I just laid on the stretcher and stared blankly above me.

Once I got to the hospital, I went through the trauma room to have some tests run. I only had a small scratch on my arm. My family was already there, and after a few hours of testing I was settled into a small room. I asked my aunt if my friends were ok. She gave me the most sorrowful look and said, "Honey, one girl didn't make it." Again, all I could do was stare. After a moment of chaos inside my head, I snapped back into reality and realized what I had done. My lack of care and concern had killed someone. My choice had taken someone's life. Someone so young with a full life ahead of her. She was only 23 and doing well for herself. And I took that away. The autopsy report for her showed that her BAC at the time of her death was .243. It would have been much higher at the time of the accident due to the fact that she lived for a few hours before succumbing to her injuries. She suffered severe blunt force trauma to the head, which inevitably was the cause of her death.

My others passengers injuries were pretty severe: She had bleeding on her brain, had a fractured skull, broken vertebrae, and a bruised tailbone. She had to have drains in her head for the blood and a brace for her back.

The one thing I don't understand about this whole thing is how I had no injuries. I was close to hypothermia and had a scratch, but nothing broken, bruised, or mangled. I emerged physically unscathed from a morbid situation I had caused. I had nothing but emotional pain. Sorrow, regret, and shame plagued my being.

I know there is nothing I can do now or will ever be able to do to make up for what I did. Nothing will ever be able to take the pain away from the family that I hurt so badly. I can't give the daughter, sister, niece, cousin, friend back that was loved so much. I can't do anything but live the rest of my life knowing that someone is dead because of a careless decision I made.