My life-coronation street fan fiction

Hello. My name is...

The day after my party, I arrived at school normally. We did the usual formalities before everyone headed to the main hall for a lecture. The whole school was there. I walked in with Bethany and was dragged aside by my head of year, Mrs Green.
"You still feeling alright to do this?" She asked me, as I watched people trail in past me.
"Yeah" I said. She smiled and took me towards the door to back stage.

Standing in the green room backstage were a group of people. My headmistress, the deputy head, a police man, a fireman, a nurse, a paramedic and a few other people. I smiled shyly as I entered the room. Mrs green introduced me to everyone.

A while later, the lecture had been going ahead. All the people had been individually going into the school stage and telling their stories. These were not normal stories, these were stories about their jobs and how their jobs dealt with and were affected by road traffic accidents. My headmistress had asked me to speak about how dangerous and drunk driving had affected my family and my life. I was scared and worried, but I wanted to do it, because I don't want other people to feel like me.

There was a video playing in the background, on which I could hear my mum and dads voices. The lights went dark and I walked onto the stage. As the lights came back up again, there was a loud gasp from several people in the audience, as they realised who I was.
"Hello, My name is Isla Connor. I'm going to tell you how dangerous driving has affected my life." I paused as I looked out into the audience.
"10 years ago, I was sent to my room, while my mum and dad had one of their adult conversations. I took my magazine and went to my room, expecting to come back out twenty minutes later when they were finished. 2 hours later, I came out to find the house empty, I found a note from my mum and went to find her. That afternoon, my dad was involved in a road traffic accident because somebody had made the choice to drink alcohol and then plough their lorry into his car. I was seven years old." I stopped again and held my hands together.
"Almost two years ago, my sister Elsa was hit by a car, because the driver wasn't looking where they were going. The car forced her into a building and her body was broken in so many different places they couldn't have been counted. Her brain was so injured she never would have able to walk or talk again. But she died before she could have even been saved. She had to be identified and you could barely make out the sweet face that I used to wake up to everyday. The driver got away with it because they weren't drunk and weren't speeding. They live a normal life, knowing that they are still responsible for the death of a little girl. She was six years old." I stopped again and looked to the back of the hall, before taking a deep breath and continuing.
"Just over a year ago, I was in the car on the way home, with my mum, my stepdad and my two younger sisters. We were going onto the roundabout when a van came out of nowhere and slammed into the side of our car, flipping it 360 degrees down the road.
I still remember my sisters scream as we spun and my baby sisters cry just stop as the breaking of her spine killed her. I remember holding onto my sisters hand, telling her over and over again that it was going to be alright, that they were coming soon, that they were going to get us out. The spinning of the car had meant neither of the back doors could be opened. They got my mum and my step dad out. They took them in ambulances to hospital. I remember hearing my mum screaming for them to let her go back to get us. I remember Bella crying because her arm hurt. And it was loud but on this dark and damp road, there was a strange silence because all these people on the road knew that in this car, there was a dead baby girl but outside there was a drunk man walking around with a few cuts. Some of them also knew that there was a chance that the other little girl and her mum may not survive. I remember my little sister asking if my baby sister was going to be alright. And I remember reaching my arm around and trying to feel for her hand. I felt her hand and held it in mine, I couldn't look, and I didn't because I don't want to live with the image of my baby sister crushed to death by a car.
My five month old sister, Jessica, was killed instantly, her spine breaking into hundreds, possibly thousands of pieces.
My four year old sister, Bella, sustained a broken arm and the impact caused her to have a bleed on her brain. She couldn't have been saved.
My mum, broke most of her ribs, one of them breaking so much that it punctured her lung and caused it to leak, something that cannot be fixed.
My stepdad got a broken leg and left as he couldn't deal with the guilt.
And me, well I got a broken arm and a fractured wrist.
The driver of the van, walked away, with nothing, barely even a scratch, but he is serving time for drink driving, in prison. That doesn't help me though, because him being in prison doesn't bring my mum and my sisters back. I am the one who lives with the unanswered questions, and the what if? And why? I live with the memory of telling my four year old sister, that she was going to go to sleep and be taken up to heaven. I live with the responsibility of telling my little brother that his mummy and twin sister were dead. I live with him as my responsibility. All because one man, decided to get drunk and drive home. All because he couldn't sober up or get a cab. It's not just your life you are responsible for when you're driving, it's everybody else as well. Because I really hope that none of you feel like me. Because I have memories that I don't want and
I stopped and listened to the roar of claps and sobs from the audience. The other people joined me on the stage. They clapped and the presenter guy talked to everyone. Afterwards it was the end of the school day and I found Bethany by our lockers to go home. She hugged me and smiled and said,
"You're so brave I could never do that." I smiled and we walked home.