Name: Raegan Britt
From: Florence, South Carolina
Votes: 0
The night my stepdad drove under the influence changed my life forever. It was not something I saw on the news or heard from someone else. It happened to my family. That night, my little sister could have been killed. The thought of losing her still crosses my mind often, and it has shaped how I think about responsibility, safety, and the choices people make behind the wheel.
At that time, my mom and stepdad had been separated for about a year. My mom, my sister, and I had moved to South Carolina while he stayed in North Carolina. We left because his drinking had taken over our home and made it unsafe. My mom had reached her limit and decided that we needed a better environment. My stepdad promised to change so he could still see my little sister. He said he would stop drinking and start over. My mom wanted to believe him, so she let my sister visit him on weekends. For a while, it seemed like things were going well. He was calling often and picking her up on time. We wanted to trust that he was keeping his word.
I remember the night my mom found out about the wreck. She was folding laundry in the living room while I was sitting nearby working on homework. Her phone lit up with a message, and I saw her whole expression change. She froze, and her hands started to shake. When she looked at me, she said that my stepdad had been in an accident with my sister in the truck. My stomach dropped. My mom quickly told me that my sister was safe, but my heart was pounding. I could not understand how it had happened.
Later that evening, we learned that he had been drinking at home before driving somewhere with my sister sitting in the front seat. He was not supposed to be drinking at all, and especially not while driving with her. While driving, he swerved off the road and hit a small ditch. The truck was damaged, and there was broken glass, but thankfully it was not a major crash. My sister had been wearing her seatbelt, and that probably saved her life. She was terrified and crying but physically okay.
Police arrived soon after and arrested my stepdad for driving under the influence. Because he was taken into custody, someone else had to come pick up my sister and bring her home. She was only nine years old, sitting in the front seat of that truck, watching everything happen. I cannot imagine how scared she must have been.
When my mom told me that my sister was safe and coming home, I felt both relief and heartbreak. I was thankful she was alive, but the fear of what could have happened hit me hard. I kept thinking about all the what ifs. What if another car had been there? What if she had not been buckled in? What if the truck had flipped? Those thoughts haunted me. I cried that night because I realized how close we came to losing her.
When my sister got home, I hugged her tighter than ever before. She had a few scratches and small bruises, but she smiled when she saw me. I tried not to cry, but I could not hold it in. That moment made everything real. I knew then that nothing in life is guaranteed. It was not just about the accident itself, but the broken promise behind it. My stepdad said he would stop drinking for her, and he failed.
The days after the wreck were filled with silence. My mom stopped all contact with him. My sister did not want to talk about what happened. She stuck close to my mom all the time and avoided mentioning her dad. I could tell she was still processing what happened in her own way. Seeing her so quiet and afraid made me realize how deeply drunk driving can hurt a family even when everyone survives.
When I got older and started learning to drive, that experience stayed with me. Unlike most new drivers, I was not excited. I was nervous. Every time I got behind the wheel, I thought about her. I noticed every car that came too close, every person who seemed distracted, and every set of headlights that sped past too quickly. I could not help but wonder if one of those drivers had been drinking. The fear made me cautious, sometimes to the point of anxiety. I became the type of driver who checks everything twice.
About a year later, I experienced something that brought all those fears back to life. One night, I was driving home when I merged into another lane. A man behind me must have felt I had cut him off, even though there was plenty of space between us. He sped up beside me, rolled down his window, and started shouting that I could have killed him. I could immediately tell he was intoxicated from the way he slurred his words and swerved in his lane. At first, I thought he would calm down and drive off, but instead he began following me.
Every turn I made, he followed. Every time I tried to slow down or speed up, he adjusted to stay right behind me. Then he pulled up next to my car and yelled that he was going to end my life. My whole body went cold. My hands were shaking, and I could feel my heart racing so fast it was hard to think. I remembered that there was a hospital not far from where I was, and I drove straight there. The lights outside the hospital gave me a small sense of safety, but when I circled the parking lot, I realized he was still behind me. I drove around the hospital twice, hoping he would give up and leave, but he stayed close, still yelling out of his window.
Finally, I pulled near the emergency entrance where people were walking in and out. As soon as I got closer to the bright lights and the crowd, he sped off. I sat there in the car for several minutes before I could even move. My hands were trembling, and I realized I had been holding my breath the whole time. I had never felt fear like that before.
That night reminded me of everything I feared when it came to impaired driving. I had already seen what alcohol behind the wheel could do to my own family. Now I had experienced firsthand how quickly things can escalate because of someone else’s poor judgment. I kept thinking about how easily that situation could have turned into another tragedy. It terrified me to know that even though I had done everything right, I was still in danger because of someone else’s choices.
Both of those experiences changed me deeply. My stepdad’s wreck taught me how fragile life is and how trust can be broken in an instant. The night I was followed taught me how unpredictable the world can be when people drink and drive. Together, they made me more aware, more cautious, and more protective of the people around me.
Now, when I drive, I pay attention to everything. I check my mirrors constantly, stay alert, and never get in a car with someone who has been drinking. I have become the person who speaks up, who takes keys away, and who insists on calling for a ride when someone has had too much. Some people think it is overreacting, but I know it is not. I have lived through the consequences of impaired driving. I have seen what it does to families and how it changes people forever.
I wish those things had never happened, but I know they made me stronger. They taught me what real responsibility looks like. They showed me that every decision behind the wheel matters. The night of my stepdad’s wreck could have ended much worse, and the night I was followed could have ended my life, but I am still here. My sister is still here. And because of that, I carry those experiences as a constant reminder to protect myself and others every single time I drive.
Impaired driving does not only risk lives. It shatters trust, destroys peace, and leaves behind memories that never really fade. Those experiences have shaped who I am today, someone who values safety, awareness, and the lives of others more than anything else.
