As soon as he approached the car, I knew something horrible had happened. Blood slipped slowly down the side of his face as he tried to summarize what had happened only minutes before. As he explained that he and two of his friends had just had an accident, the stench of alcohol lingered on his breath. While he talked, my eyes shifted quickly to the car which had hit a telephone pole head on.

Outside of the car two bodies lay on the ground, making my heart race. Instinctively I jumped out of the car and raced to the accident victims. A teenage boy, who had been thrown from the car, thrashed about restlessly and beat his foot repeatedly into the pavement. He clutched his right arm and screamed in pain. A few feet away, a girl lay lifeless in a puddle of muddy water, her blond hair soaked with blood from where she had smashed the windshield. She spoke in a barely audible voice, but I could make out her plea for help. I waited patiently with them while my friends went for help.

About three minutes later the ambulances and police arrived. The victims were rushed to the hospital.

Later that night I sat alone reflecting what had happened. I wondered if they were going to be alright. I wondered what would become of the driver. I thought about the accident itself and the effect it would have on me and the others who witnessed it. I knew that it would remain a vivid picture in my mind and it would make me think twice before allowing myself or someone else to get into a car with someone who had been drinking. ,