WOOHOO! You are a LICENSED DRIVER. Time to dust off that SET of old 2006 albums. Taylor Swift booms from YOUR disc player in a way no PHONE could. Now you and your friends will go DOWN to the beach over break. A chance to get sun but AVOID a sunburn. ROAD trips are going to be those days you never forget. And the day your mom cries in RAGE and pain when she receives a call from the cops. “DON’T worry too much,” they begin. “She was in an accident when another teen pulled out from a party.” She just went for a DRIVE, your mom thinks as the tears stream down her face. Your dad is so DISTRACTED by the game he can’t hear her breaking down in the kitchen. The questions pulsed through her head on her way out the door. “Was she wearing her glasses? Did she PUT ON her SEAT BELT? Is she okay?” Your mother attempts to CALM DOWN as she heads to the hospital. She arrives too late. The other driver sits with their mother with barely a scratch on their skin but a hole in their heart. YOU’RE ANOTHER STATISTIC OF RECKLESS DRIVING.
STORY within a story. Read once as a whole and again as only the upper-cased words.