Young Writers Society

I just had to get my feelings out so I just wrote this.

In a family of seven, there's bound to be a lot of tension at times. Being the youngest out of five children, I was defiantly the one who was spoiled the most. My oldest brother and sister were constantly at each others throats. All of the other children where several years older than me. Although most of our quarrels involved name-calling, a few evolved into punching, in areas covered by clothing. By avoiding the exposed areas, we also avoided any possibility of getting into trouble. The feelings between us where intense- intense anger, jealousy, and competition. Anything one of us did, the other had to do it better. Seems like the usual brother-sister rivalry. I finally realized how close we all were when this all happened, when Jared got into his wreck. He is a good friend, but a really good brother too. I just wish everyone looked up to him the way I do. I hope that what I'm about to tell you won't happen to me because it is going to haunt my brother for the rest of his life.

The nightmare began at about 9:00 on a Thursday evening September 8, 2002. I received a phone call at my friend's house in Sedalia. Expecting to hear my mom's voice on the other end, I was shocked to hear my older sister's voice. The few words that followed sent me spinning into a whirlwind of emotions, questions, doubts and fears: "Hope, Jared has been in a bad accident", with those words, I was out the door and on my way to the emergency just a few blocks away. The unanswered questions were torturing my mind- was he alive? How bad was he hurt? How did this happen? Was he drinking, driving- WHAT? as I was running to the hospital, I was begging and pleading with God to let it be only a broken arm. The loss of a limb or any permanent damage to his face or body parts may be to much for him to handle.

When I arrived at the hospital, I saw my mother slouching in a chair struggling to keep her sanity. My aunt was leaning over her trying hopelessly to calm her. My father was peering into a large white room that was full of commotion. There were people in different colored uniforms sprinting everywhere, screaming words that were incomprehensible to me at the time. My attention was completely focused on my father's face. Etched all across his face was a look of intense fear, sadness, and self-doubt. I looked over to see what was causing all of these painful emotions that I had never detected in my father's face prior to this moment. On a hospital bed I saw a lifeless figure completely covered with a white sheet sprinkled here and there with drops of blood. In place of my brother's face there was that I assumed to be at one time a white towel that was now soaking wet with blood. It was then that I understood how desperate the situation had become.

My attention was finally distracted away when I heard my mother describing the details of the accident. My brother and a high school buddy of his were racing another boy. Apparently, the truck that they were driving hit a bump and went out of control and wedged between two trees.

They both had to be cut out of the truck and Dale Woods (the driver) had to be life flighted to the Columbia Hospital for more serious injuries. Dale has been a friend of the family for a long time. Now, instead of pleading, I was demanding that both boys survive the accident, because I knew that if we lost one of them, we would lose both of them, if not physically, then emotionally.

In the eternity that followed, Jared underwent many tests and X-rays. The whole family gathered around him before his X-rays to tell him how much we loved him and to give him words of encouragement. At that moment I realized that our brother was a lot stronger than we gave him credit for being. In his own was he was reassuring us that everything was going to be okay. I left him that night feeling secure just knowing that everything was going to work out fine. In addition to the 65 stitches in his face, my brother also underwent a surgery to reconstruct the bone in his hip. After more than a week of hospitalization and months of physical therapy, he was back at home being himself, which doesn't seem to be such a bad thing anymore. Neither boys suffered any irreversive damage from the accident. Both of them went home and recuperated and recovered with their families.

What I concluded form this devastating experience in my life is that it's a shame that I waited so long to tell my older brothers and sisters that I love them. We hear people say that all the time, and one would think that eventually people would start listening. It is a lesson that I will never forget.

Jared contributes so much to my life. I don't know what I'd do with out him. He helps me when I need it and we do a lot of thinks together. When he is flipping through the TV channels a thousand miles a hour, or listening to his music too loud, or any of the other things that drive me crazy, I'm just grateful that I still have the opportunity to tell him to shut up or leave me alone. His scars are a constant reminder of the accident that almost stole his life.

Yeah okay, like I said I was just trying to get rid of my feelings.