Why?

Jessica M

0

Waking up with a terrible headache was definitely not ideal, and the sirens aren’t nice either. Why is there sirens in the first place, and why can’t I open my eyes? There’s a lot of noise around me, I don’t get it. I don’t even remember falling asleep. I’m confused. I don’t know what’s going on. I thought I was just waking up. Why is it still dark? Why do I feel like falling asleep again? Why do I feel pain? And…why did the pain just stop? Why can I suddenly see? And most importantly, why can I see myself from here. Where exactly is here? I feel weird, and yet, I feel nothing at the same time. I think I’m starting to put the pieces together, I’m starting to remember what happened. I look around, now that I can see, what happened is very clear, and yet I still wish I was wrong. I don’t want to believe it, I heard about it, read about it, and for some reason, I was sure it would never be me. Isn’t it ironic, how I’m just figuring it out now how ridiculous that sounds, now that it’s too late. My phone is still close to me, near my hand, where it was when it happened and where it should have never been. The front-facing camera is still on, the screen is cracked but I can see it pointing at the sky, I’m sure I would be able to see myself in it, if I was still there, if I still existed– I think I’m right above it but I’m not sure, I’m not sure what I am anymore, if I’m actually here, if I still have a body. I don’t, because, for some reason, I thought that a picture of me driving was more important than my actual existence. Don’t do this, you might think that it’s fine, that you’re good, and maybe you are but why risk it. You can wait, you can reach your destination, meet with your friends and take pictures with them, create awesome memories, do things that I can’t do anymore, just because I thought I could do it, that I could make it there without any problem, but I didn’t. Put your phone away, look around, stay focused, stay alive…for me…so that you can experience the things I’m never going to be able to experience, please. It’s easy. It’s fine. It’s just a message, just a picture. It’s not important. Not now. Trust me. Your phone is not as important as your safety. Everything is getting blurry now, darker. I think I’ll be gone soon, but before I’m gone promise me this: don’t make my mistake, don’t focus on your phone when the road should be the only thing on your mind. Please…


Description

I wrote this from the perspective of someone that was affected by distracted driving. This person is looking back on their decision and realizing how one small mistake could end horribly. The suggestions are also presented as if the teen is saying them, in the hopes that people will take them more seriously.