Guilt Stricken

A liquor bottle in one hand
The steering wheel in the other
Sleeping in the front seat was my little brother.

They told me, “You’re drunk. Don’t leave. I’ll drive you home.”
But all I had to say was, “Dude, I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”

Hot breath of alcohol stung my eyes
I know that when a drunk hits the streets at least one person dies.

The streets became blurry
And the car swerved around
All of a sudden, I was on the ground.

Drips of blood fell on the grass and dirt
Guilt was already embedded on my shirt.
Where was he? He’s not in the car!
He was in the distance, not too far.

Sirens could be heard
They would be here soon
If he doesn’t make it, my life would be ruined
Please God, hear my plea!
If he dies, it should really be me.

People finally arrive at the scene
Please, please, go to him not me
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” They pick me up and I wait.
One quick look at him and they know
A black bag goes over him very slow.

Shock and horror fill my tears
If I hadn’t been driving, we wouldn’t be here
Silver shackles hug my wrists tight
It should have been me, this isn’t right.

Why take his innocent life away?
He did nothing wrong, why was today his last day?