Chapter Seven
Once the shock wears off, one finds that they can then notice the little details. Lauren found, for example, that when Molly had gone through the windshield, the airbags had gone off. She was effectively pushed upwards with much force, into jagged glass, and then skewered even further as the car flipped over on top of her, and was nearly crushed in two. And Mary... dear god.
Lauren couldn't look away. She knew she wanted to, but she was frozen in stupid shock, unable to claw her eyes away from the gruesome scene. Molly... Mary... her two best friends. They had grown up together since middle school, since third grade. They grew up listening to the same music, watching the same shows, doing everything together. They were supposed to take a vacation to Italy after graduation together, part of a school sponsored social studies trip. Their bond was tightly woven, impervious to anything that life could throw their way. They had their fights. Normally not as savage as the one earlier that night, but bad enough for them not to talk for periods of time. But in the end, their bond shone strong. Apologies and hugs were given, awkward laughter issued to lighten the once hostile mood. But even a bond as strong as theirs couldn't transcend death. The proof was laid before Lauren. Bloodied, mangled bodies promised there would be no more slumber parties, silly pillow fights, casual get togethers. No Italy. No more visits to the beach, spontaneous phone calls, gossip sessions. They wouldn't even be able to chat casually as they made their way to their lockers before school. The guillotine had dropped. The line was severed, permanently. No amount of apologizing could fix this. They were dead.
“No,” Lauren whispered. She could feel herself choke up. Tears were inevitable. “No...” Suddenly she wanted to get as far away as possible. Shakily she unstrapped her seat belt. She fell painfully onto the roof, now on her belly, face pressed against the surface. A trickle of blood was flowing her way. She cried out and pulled away, suddenly overcome by dizzying nausea. She was going to be sick.
She clawed her way out of the shattered window and into the grass by the side of the road, retching violently. She could taste alcohol and bile rising up, spewing the grass in a projectile arc. Alcohol. Alcohol was what had killed her friends. It seemed like a completely acceptable scapegoat, but she was too smart for that. She was an honor roll student, after all. She knew perfectly well that the case of beer was entirely inanimate. It had no powers of speech. It didn't tell her, “Hey, it's a good idea to drink me drunk and go joy-riding.” What wasn't inanimate was Lauren. Lauren was capable of thought, more importantly speech. And she knew that it was dangerous. She knew it was wrong. So why didn't she use her power of speech, her once praised intellect, and talk them out of it? Or at least try? Why was she so goddamn stupid?
“Do you want to drive?” Molly's question rang in her ears. She could have taken the wheel. It more than likely would have been the end of their friendship, but she could have forced her. At least Molly would be alive. She didn't drink as much as they did. It made her feel nauseous, so she always stopped after her third or fourth beer. It was still entirely too much alcohol to drive, but she was nowhere near as impaired as Molly or Mary, who stopped after six or seven beers. She saw the deer. She knew the best course of action for that situation. The car would have been totaled, they would have been banged up quite badly. But hell, that could happen to sober people. Molly didn't veer off of the road into a deer's path. The deer did that. No matter how much alcohol they drank, a deer in the middle of the road was there on its own account.
The alcohol made Molly think slower. She veered to miss the deer. Didn't pay attention to her surroundings. That could have also happened to a sober person, it happened all the time. It wouldn't have happened to Lauren. And Lauren passed up the opportunity to take the wheel because she didn't want to take responsibility. Now she felt even more responsible.
