Don’t let your last text be your last words

Inara J

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It was a Tuesday evening. The sun was starting to set, creating a mix of blood orange, rose pink, and an indigo blend in the sky, like a painter’s palette. I was headed home from band practice like I do every day. It was 6:30, which meant I was late for family dinner. We have a family dinner every night, and it meant the world to my mom. She wants to spend as much family time as we can before I go off to college in three months. ‘Three months,’ I thought, ‘Three months, and I’ll finally start my life.’ I tossed my clarinet and my bag in the passenger seat, and my phone in the cupholder. I opened the driver’s seat mirror and checked myself. My hair was half sweaty from marching in the heat from earlier today, and my mascara seemed as if it was faded away. Letting out a tired sigh, I closed the mirror, and I turned on my car. I started my quick drive, making my way next to the gym across the street from my school, when my phone buzzed, making an irritated noise. I looked around and saw no other cars on the street. I kept a safe, steady speed level and pulled my phone out. I’ve done this a million times before, and today didn’t seem any different. It was a text from Adam, my boyfriend. “Hey, are we still on for tomorrow?” He said with a cute emoticon attached to it. I smiled, and sent him a text back, my forearms rested on the steering wheel. “Of course, babe. Can’t wait! I’ll text when I get home.” The last thing I could do before it unfolded was press send. My car was immediately shoved aside by a big white jeep. It happened so fast, yet I could feel time pass by in slow motion. I saw my phone fly out into the passenger seat window, dropping onto the seat. My head smashed onto the steering wheel, sending my mind in circles. Everything was blurry and all I could see were flashes of bright red from my signal light. My car rounded around before it stopped in front of the grass corner in front of the neighborhood sign. I was a minute away from my home. The airbags popped up, pushing my head into my headrest. My breathing was labored, and I could barely make out a whisper. My head started to feel light, and everything was fading away. I could hear sirens in the distance, yet I couldn’t see the police lights. I couldn’t move to get out of the car. I felt my hair becoming drenched from the blood, and all I feel was regret. I shouldn’t have picked up my phone. I shouldn’t have let it end my life before it even began. I shouldn’t have let my last text become my last words, but I did. Now I’m paying for it with my life.


Description

This short story is about a teenage girl driving home from school, who gets into an accident because she ran a red light, due to texting and driving. Many teenagers text and drive, thinking that they’ll be okay, but many people die from texting and driving. I wanted to show people my age that it’s not okay to put yourself in that position. No text is worth your life. I chose ‘Don’t let your last text become your last words’ because this short story is a warning to all teenagers of how quickly a text can change your life.