The fluorescent lights hummed above me as I made my way to the staircase. I checked my watch. It was going to be dark soon if I didn't hurry, and I didn't want to walk home alone in the dark.
I hadn't gone out much since the accident, I was honestly just wanting to avoid the stares. Those were worse than the questions.
I couldn't stand their sad eyes staring, boring into me; asking without asking. I had hoped that coming to campus this late in the afternoon would lessen the chance of me running into someone I knew.
I rounded the corner and made my way quickly down the staircase, shielding my eyes from the setting sun, as my mind wandered. I wasn't paying attention and I missed the last step, tripping and dropping my backpack. I cursed myself as I bent to pick it up, not noticing the door in front of me opening and closing.
As I shouldered my bag, I looked up, gasping – my breath caught in my throat. He stood a few feet in front of me, his blue eyes looked into mine and I was stuck; mesmerized and horrified at the same time. Was it really him? The crooked smile, the flashing eyes...there was no denying that it was him, but how?
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instinctively, I reached out to him, but he didn't move. Memories flooded my mind, playing before my eyes like an old home movie. That night we drove to the beach, the windows rolled down, the stars dancing to the radio. I saw us in the grocery store, giggling as we paid in all change, despite the deadly look the checker was giving us. I watched us wake up on a Sunday morning, lazily laying in bed as the morning slipped past us.
Football games, family picnics, date nights, movies; I saw them all, but saved the worst for last.
I saw him, his hands sloppily held the wheel as he laughed, "That's our song baby! Turn it up!" I drunkenly obliged, we sang along at the top of our lungs, beer cans rattling along the floor board; we were invincible.
We were too busy making out to see the curve in the road. I don't remember hitting the guard rail, or the jeep flipping over into the ditch behind it. I don't remember him being thrown through the windshield. I don't remember the paramedics gingerly pulling my frail and broken body from the wreckage.
All this time, what killed me the most was that I didn't remember him dying.
They told me it was instant, that he felt no pain; that never put my mind at ease. I would spend the next few months stuck in a hospital bed, haunted by his ghost. Friends stopped by less and less, they stopped feeling sorry for me, and turned me into an example.
"Don't end up like her, don't let your friends drink and drive." I wasn't a person anymore, I was a lesson to learn from. An after school special.
My hands trembled as I reached for him again, this time he reached back, but as my fingers brushed his I felt nothing. My hand fell through his like water. All I grabbed was smoke.
"How do I let go of you?" I pleaded, "How do I move on from this?"
I blamed myself for what happened. I should've stopped him from leaving. I should've had less to drink. I shouldn't of let him drive. I could stand all day and list a hundred million things I should of and shouldn't have done that night.
But nothing could change what happened. Nothing could bring him back to me.
I scanned his face for an answer, anything to tell me what to do. He smiled, that same smile I fell in love with freshman year, before he turned and walked out the same door he came in; leaving me alone in the stairwell.
I wasn't sure what he meant, but I took a deep breath and wiped my eyes. It was dark now, but I knew I wasn't walking home alone.
Last year, an average of 28 people a day die from DUI accidents. In 2015, more than 10 thousand people were killed, and countless more injured.
When you drink and drive, it isn't just your life that changes – it's everyones. With apps like Uber and Lyft, and easy access to Taxi's, there is plenty of safe transportation. Call a friend or your mom if you need to – they'll be glad you did.
Don't get behind the wheel intoxicated. Make the right choice, don't drive drunk.