TITLE: Life Illuminated
I hate the sound of crashing metal. Screeching tires. Brakes. I hate rain and dark skies and the smell of cheap beer. I might be the only guy who hates beer. It's been a year since I've had a beer.
I hate groups.
I hate my life.
The thing is, I took all those stupid alcohol prevention classes that our school offered. But that crap happens to someone else. I didn't know anyone who died. And the one thing everyone knows, but the court system couldn't prove, was that the accident was my fault. But since I was found not guilty on some little technicality that dad's Brooks Brother's suit wearing attorney dreamed up, I'm a free guy. Now, if I could just turn my brain off then I'd be able to just move on.
But I can't get the night out of my head.
It's burned on the back of my retinas where I have to look at it forever.
It spins in a circle, a video playing in my head that I can't turn off.
Mom keeps telling me it's okay. Just move on with your life. You can't change the past; you can't go back and change what happened. There's no reason to keep thinking about it, stressing over it, replaying the moments in your mind.
But I can't make it stop. It's why I'm spending the summer at the Youth of America Center for Scientific Development.
I want another chance.