Personal Narrative Essay About Drunk Driving

The Fresh Cold Sip The fresh, and cold sip from the shivering cold liquor bottle glide gently down the consumer’s throat. In that same moment the consumer is slowly, but surely being affected by physical impairment and slows down the mental process, due to the intake of alcohol without being consciously aware. According to Rich Stim, US Attorney, “Approximately 2,000 underage drinkers die each year from driving and alcohol is the primary factor in a third of all teenage auto fatalities”. Even with all this hard, and substantial evidence many, including me, refused to acknowledge that all it takes is the one sip, and they can easily be another statistic added to Census report. Everything that surrounded me was just visuals of God’s creation,

I eventually learned that sometimes it takes an experience for lessons to be learned, and this night I learned to believe in the danger of drunk driving, and guardian angels. First and foremost, it was a bright, mid cloudy, afternoon as I am working another shift for the billion dollar company, McDonald's. Coworker Jonathan Castillo comes dashing from taking a customer’s order. Jonathan is a tall, athletic, Hispanic guy that went I had attended the same school as me. Full of excitement I can barely catch anything that he has said. He repeats in a calmer voice, this time, I hear him say “Josh, I got the best idea ever. Instead of just me and you racing on the streets let’s invite Hakim to join us.”. Hakim is a 17-year-old friend, my little brother if anything. It was his day off, so I got excited about the

A little suspicion arose from Hakim’s actions, and alcohol smell led me to believe he was not physically and mentally present. I forced my mind to think it is only the butterflies trying to make me back out of my plans, and head home by the time I had noticed, at that point it was too late. Hakim’s olive green Honda and Jonathan’s Colgate white Volvo engines were already in full throttle and juiced up. Furthermore, as they zig-zagged through midnight traffic, I missed out on the whole conversation of getting food before we start anything. At this point, my heart was pounding under my uniform, and mind is racing faster than I pictured the cars will. We sit in the Burger King parking lot and fill our stomachs as if we had our missed Thanksgiving dinner. Next, we start walking back to the cars, unlike the planned destination the way home from the late night food stop was a full straightaway with no signs of cops nearby. The red light shines in our excited glowing eyes from both lanes; green lights strike with meaning, and the races begin. Unfortunately, with so much on my mind I had forgotten to put my seatbelt in place. The speed increases slowly thirty, forty, fifty, and so on. My eyes are just monitoring the speedometer as Jonathan is trailing right alongside. I look forward only to see us going