Somebody Should Have Taught Him. . . I went to a birthday party, but I remembered what you said. You told me not to drink at all, so I had a Sprite, instead. I felt proud of myself, The way you said I would. That I wouldn’t choose to drink and drive, though some friends said I should. I knew I made a healthy choice and your advice to me was right. As the party finally ended, and the kids drove out of sight, I got into my own car, sure to get home in one piece. Never knowing what was coming, something I expected least. Now I’m lying on the pavement, I can hear the policeman say, “The kid that caused this wreck was drunk.” His voice seems far away. My own blood is all around me, as I try hard not to cry. I can hear the paramedics say, “This girl is going to die.” I’m sure the guy had no idea, while he was flying high. Because he chose to drink and drive, that I would have to die. So why do people do it, knowing that it ruins lives? But now the pain is cutting me like a hundred stabbing knives. Tell my sister not to be afraid, tell Daddy to be brave, And when I go to heaven to put “Daddy’s Girl” on my grave. Someone should have taught him that it’s wrong to drink and drive. Maybe if his mom and dad had, I’d still be alive. My breath is getting shorter, I’m getting really scared. These are my final moments, and I’m so unprepared. I wish that you could hold me, Mom, as I lie here and die. I wish that I could say–I love you, and goodbye . . .   Back to the top