Reagan S

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I could tell her intents were not malicious, not in the slightest. When the ding of her cell phone echoed throughout the car, the attention that had been on the road was transferred to her little device that never seemed to leave her line of sight. I knew that she didn’t mean to pay attention to her phone. I knew she didn’t mean to drift lanes. I knew she didn’t mean to accelerate dangerously above the speed limit. I knew that she didn’t mean to be distracted, but yet it didn’t stop us from lying on the ground with ambulances surrounding us. Mom, I’m lying in a strange bed with perplexing machines in and around me. Mom, why are you crying? You didn’t mean to hurt me. You chose to hurt me. If you had put the phone away, you wouldn’t see me in this state. Mom, I don’t want to blame you, yet you’re the only one to blame. I know you’re thinking the same thing. Mom, I wonder if I’ll walk again. I wonder if that text meant more to you than a happy life for me. Mom, I ponder what would have happened if car hit us from somewhere else. Would you have been here to watch me graduate? Was that text really worth a life? Mom, why won’t you answer? Why didn’t anyone stop you? Daddy rode with us a lot? Where was the law, mommy? Mom, can you hear me? Of course, you can’t hear me. You’re texting on your phone.