I’m Sorry

Hannah Farias, Reporter

I didn’t wake up in the morning knowing that my life would turn out this way.

I didn’t know that in going to that party I’d be drinking more than I could handle; more than I could ever drink again.

It’s crazy to think that from 12 Am to 11:59 PM, your actions are going to be trapped in that day forever. No going back, no second chance.

Thinking back to it I never really questioned whether or not my fate was sealed, even, in general, it was a concept I never thought of.

Was this meant to happen? Have I been living my life for it to just I come to this?

It’s not the end I would’ve ever hoped for or dreamed of or would ever wish on anyone else, but it happened.

There are so many things I could’ve done, people I could have spoken to, and I just decided to ignore the fact that my intoxication would consume not only my life but the lives of the people I loved the most.

Everyone in that car had hopes, dreams, and ambitions and I stripped them of that; I stripped myself of that. I stripped away everything we could’ve ever worked for and everything we could’ve ever accomplished.

I didn’t wake up in the morning knowing that it would be my last. I didn’t know that I’d never see my mother’s smile or smell coffee brewing again.

I now realize that in the mix of everything I never appreciated my life for what it was and it was oh, so beautiful.

My sorrow doesn’t only come from the things I did, the choices I made, but from the things, I didn’t do.

I didn’t thank my mother for the coffee, I simply got some in a mug and left the house. In leaving the house I heard my sister tell me that she loved me (she always told me to drive safe) and I didn’t say it in return, I shut the door. I didn’t even acknowledge it.

Although I went to school as I normally would and laughed as if it was the last-

It was the last.

It was the last time I’d gather around my lunch table with my closest friends.

We talked about our futures and graduation; talked about all the things we could’ve done and planned to do and it breaks my heart because I keep thinking and thinking and thinking of all the possibilities in the case that I did things differently and I just feel trapped, just trapped.

I can’t tell you the exact second where I realized I was going to die and I can’t tell you what I heard whether it was screams of the people I loved or it was the sound of glass shattering as the car capsized, but I can tell you what you need to hear, I can tell you what you can avoid.

Don’t put yourself in the position where you’re risking not only your life but the life of others.

Going to that party was the worst mistake of my short-lived life.

Something I always found interesting is that a hummingbird’s heart rate can reach 1,260 beats per minute and in each second it can flap its wings approximately 70 times. Such a small and fragile life that’s also permeated with strength.

I can feel it now, I can feel it come over me I can’t I-

There are too many lights now.

Blue, red, so many high pitches on top of each other.

As I sit still in my seat whilst hanging upside down, feeling my blood rushing to my head and chest closing in on me, I see clearly now.

In the 60 seconds that I made the turn out of the road, consumed with panic to get home, the one second that mattered and the one second that could’ve made a difference was the one where I made the decision to get into the driver’s seat.

I’m fading out now. It’s getting brighter now. I’m sorry.

Momma, I’m sorry.