Would have been the most proudest day of my life, had I not had to hide my face from the parents, or my teachers, or even my friends. Or how about when my parents told me when they were proud? How, could they be proud? Well, let me take you back to the fateful night of June 2, 2005.
“Nothin much girl, you wanna go to Derricks then?”
“Yea sure,” I reply. “Who’s driving?”
As I rush around my messy room, frantically trying to find the usuals: my keys, bathing suit, etc., I explain to my mom where I’m going and we begin to argue about what time I need to be in at. After some negotiation, we finally decide that 11 o’clock is appropriate. I tell her I love her and dart out the door.
Driving over to Derricks, it’s the usual Thursday night in Denver, PA: hot, nothing to do, and no where to go, but somehow, Derrick‘s campground is good enough for us. I pick up Nikki and she informs me we’re going to pick up Arnaud, the foreign exchange student. After we arrive at Derricks, we each get a few beers in us and head over to his pool. An hour or so of swimming and we were already heading back to his cabins for a campfire and some smores. Each of us are more than excited; good friends for the better part of high school, we would be graduating in just 4 days. After that, it was the week we looked forward to for, well, our whole high school lives: Senior Week. So, we decide to celebrate our friendship and last day of school with a bottle of wine. Which might not be such a great idea, but hey, we’re young and beautiful, and graduating! Who cares, right?
After awhile of sitting by the campfire reminiscing on our high school days, I realize it’s already 11:30 and my mom has been trying to call me for the past half hour! So me and Nikki and Arnaud pile in my old, red, beat up ‘94 Buick and rush home. After dropping off Arnaud, and regaining service, I dial my mom and tell her I’ll be home soon. She sounds worried, but I figure it will all work out.
As I make my way down the vacant Reamstown Road, I’m just outside of Nikki’s neighborhood, when I see flashing red lights in my rear view. Immediately, my heart drops to my stomach.
As the officer approaches the car, he introduces himself and informs me I was speeding. After asking for my license, registration, and proof of insurance, he asks if we have been drinking. I reply no, but he proceeds to ask me to step out of the car. Right about now, I just want to die, but I cooperate. After a few field sobriety tests(which I had passed, to no avail), he asks me to blow into a breath-a-lizer. Here, I know it’s all over. He then informs me that I am under arrest for drinking and driving, reads me my rights and stuffs me into the back of one of the three cop cars surrounding me. Everything is such a blur, I can hardly believe this is happening to me.
The next, the last day of school, I can hardly handle walking around in the halls. Everyone is ecstatic about graduation, but I can no longer relate. I don’t tell anyone but the few involved, and try to fake a smile as friends sign my yearbook. All I want to do is take myself back to the night before, change the events of time. But it’s not possible.
So, I have this message, whatever you do, don’t drink and drive. Not a sip. I wasn’t even drunk, but one is enough. Don’t do it. Don’t do what I did, it’s not worth it.

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Oldest known version of this page was edited on 2005-09-15 20:01:33 by MikeJones []
High School Graduation was one of the proudest days of my life. Or would have been.
Would have been the most proudest day of my life, had I not had to hide my face from the parents, or my teachers, or even my friends. Or how about when my parents told me when they were proud? How, could they be proud? Well, let me take you back to the fateful night of June 2, 2005.

“Nikki*! What’s up?” I scream into the phone.
“Nothin much girl, you wanna go to Derricks then?”
“Yea sure,” I reply. “Who’s driving?”
“Well, my sister has the car can you drive us?” She asks.
“Sure, I’ll be over in 10.”
“Alright, sounds good, Later girl!” Click.
As I rush around my messy room, frantically trying to find the usuals: my keys, bathing suit, etc., I explain to my mom where I’m going and we begin to argue about what time I need to be in at. After some negotiation, we finally decide that 11 o’clock is appropriate. I tell her I love her and dart out the door.
Driving over to Derricks, it’s the usual Thursday night in Denver, PA: hot, nothing to do, and no where to go, but somehow, Derrick‘s campground is good enough for us. I pick up Nikki and she informs me we’re going to pick up Arnaud, the foreign exchange student. After we arrive at Derricks, we each get a few beers in us and head over to his pool. An hour or so of swimming and we were already heading back to his cabins for a campfire and some smores. Each of us are more than excited; good friends for the better part of high school, we would be graduating in just 4 days. After that, it was the week we looked forward to for, well, our whole high school lives: Senior Week. So, we decide to celebrate our friendship and last day of school with a bottle of wine. Which might not be such a great idea, but hey, we’re young and beautiful, and graduating! Who cares, right?
After awhile of sitting by the campfire reminiscing on our high school days, I realize it’s already 11:30 and my mom has been trying to call me for the past half hour! So me and Nikki and Arnaud pile in my old, red, beat up ‘94 Buick and rush home. After dropping off Arnaud, and regaining service, I dial my mom and tell her I’ll be home soon. She sounds worried, but I figure it will all work out.
As I make my way down the vacant Reamstown Road, I’m just outside of Nikki’s neighborhood, when I see flashing red lights in my rear view. Immediately, my heart drops to my stomach.
As the officer approaches the car, he introduces himself and informs me I was speeding. After asking for my license, registration, and proof of insurance, he asks if we have been drinking. I reply no, but he proceeds to ask me to step out of the car. Right about now, I just want to die, but I cooperate. After a few field sobriety tests(which I had passed, to no avail), he asks me to blow into a breath-a-lizer. Here, I know it’s all over. He then informs me that I am under arrest for drinking and driving, reads me my rights and stuffs me into the back of one of the three cop cars surrounding me. Everything is such a blur, I can hardly believe this is happening to me.
Driving to the hospital, I can hardly comprehend what is happening. Not that I’m drunk, it all just seems so surreal. They take my blood and drive me down to the station where I wait in silence until my parents arrive. I cannot look at them. I cannot talk to them. My mother hugs me and tells me she’s glad I’m okay. The car ride home is less than quiet.
The next, the last day of school, I can hardly handle walking around in the halls. Everyone is ecstatic about graduation, but I can no longer relate. I don’t tell anyone but the few involved, and try to fake a smile as friends sign my yearbook. All I want to do is take myself back to the night before, change the events of time. But it’s not possible.

So, I have this message, whatever you do, don’t drink and drive. Not a sip. I wasn’t even drunk, but one is enough. Don’t do it. Don’t do what I did, it’s not worth it.