Sliding Into The DM

Deborah O

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I once read somewhere about a long list of things to do after a friend has gone or is going through a breakup. There was “26 Ways to Mend Their Heart” and another “27 Things That She/He Really Needs To Heal After Getting Their Heart Broken.” Some of the tips were to encourage them to workout and be fit, do something that they love, go on a road trip, have a weekend off— the list goes on. Anything to get them over the fact that they were dumped or dumped someone else. Don’t text, call, or even think about the ex. Do not go as far as thinking to DM them. Resist that wicked urge. But, how come when someone is not driving safely, there isn’t a rulebook on how to recover from remorsefulness of a car crash? How come no one has a clue about what to do? And when they do know, why do they usually disregard this knowledge with ease when their favorite friends are around? For my friend, I tried my best. When she got into the car, we were on our way to go shopping, you know, to have a girl’s day. As we were driving, a DING! from her phone filled the rough silence in the tense air. Her eyes looked from the road down to her phone and only for a quick moment, she hesitated, inhaling sharply. I snatched the phone from the cup holder and took it out of what I thought was her only line of sight. All of a sudden, her hand lurched forward and she obsessively grabbed the phone out of my tight grasp. We…we were unsteadily merging onto the highway leading into a mall roadway nearby, when she won, unclasping her seatbelt, and latched onto her phone with her clammy, white hands. She scrolled down through her phone and shrieked in delight after realizing that her ex had sent her a direct message. After three weeks of hard work, of me trying desperately to help her get over this scumbag and be my best friend again, the winning streak broke in half and she went to respond. Before I could fully process what was going on, she lost control of the vehicle and sent us spinning in circles off the road. She flew out of the driver’s’ seat and into the windshield multiple times. My seatbelt kept me firmly in place, but my head was forcefully banged against the chair a couple of times and hit the window once. Once the car had stopped, she was flung into a grass field close by, and she lay motionless with her phone in her bloody hand. That DM had ended her life, but when she responded to it, she signed a consent form. The minute her phone was in her hand, she had given it the authority to tragically cut her life short. I unfastened my seatbelt and limped over to her lifeless body; I was left to mourn over her final state, Death Mode. Don’t text and drive because sliding into the DM is never worth it. It cost me my best friend.