In The Blink of an Eye

Author's Note- this is learning story, because you can never be too good to make the right decision. I'll start off by telling you this story is about the consequences of drunk driving. This is a serious issue since almost 90% of teenagers drink, or have tried it. It's time to focus the attention on what can happen afterwards instead. If I make one person think twice, my goal has been accomplished.

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"Come on guys, I think you've had enough."

"J.C., come on, we're not on TV now, you don't have to play the good guy," Joey said, placing a heavy arm on J.C.'s shoulders. His cheeks were slightly flushed from his moderate consumption of alcohol that night.

"Joey, I'm talking to you as your friend. You and Chris better quit while you're ahead." J.C. took Joey's arm off himself and tried to smile at the two drunken brunettes.

Justin was off with Britney, kissing her in a corner booth of the club. Lance was sitting beside Chris, across from J.C. and Joey at a separate booth. J.C. marveled at how Lance could concentrate on the paperwork that he'd managed to drag in while not ten feet away, the dance floor was packed with women.

"Well J.C., as YOUR friend, I'm telling you to get a life," Joey countered. "You need to relax. So does Mr. I-Do-Work-During-Play-Time over there."

Lance never heard him as Chris erupted into a fit of giggles.

Joey began laughing too, and J.C. rolled his eyes and took a drink of his own beer, somewhat frustrated. It wasn't often that any of them got drunk, but tonight seemed to be dragging on forever. Tomorrow they had a performance and J.C. wasn't looking forward to getting his ass chewed by management when half of the group showed up with a hangover.

"Justin looks about ready to go," Lance mumbled, turning the pages in his stack of papers.

J.C. looked to where the blonde and his date were sitting. Sure enough, Justin started motioning to the door. J.C. turned back to Lance, stunned. "How did you do that?" he asked, bewildered.

Lance began scribbling something down. "I am Lance of Mississippi, I know all and see all."

Chris and Joey burst into giggles again.

J.C. rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling at the laugher of his friends. "I think tweedle dee and tweedle dum are about ready to go too." The light-hearted ones were now sword fighting with toothpicks.

"Hey guys, we ready?" Justin asked as he approached the Nsync-occupied booth. Britney had already been escorted out and to Justin, staying in the club was pointless.

"Yeah," J.C. nodded, setting his glass down. Lance began stacking all his papers as Chris and Joey set down their 'toys'. Justin backed up and let J.C. stand up. "Let's go," he said, encouraging Chris and Joey to hurry.

"You guys are no fun," Chris complained. "We still have half the night."

"No, technically we don't," Lance corrected, putting a hand on Joey's back to guide him to the door. "Because we have to get up at five tomorrow, and seeing as how it's almost one, WE DON'T HAVE THAT LONG!"

"Hey, it was Justin's idea," Chris replied, following J.C. into the cool, damp night air.

"Don't blame this on me," Justin replied. "I just wanted to see Britney is all."

"Why?" Joey asked.

Justin rolled his eyes. "You gotta admit she is pretty hot."

Joey looked at Chris. "You know what I think? I think that she's a slut."

Justin halted and glared at Joey, who couldn't keep his balance. "Normally, I'd beat your ass for that, but seeing how you're drunk right now, I might kill you. And we wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?" Chris began laughing from behind Joey, and Justin shifted his weight for a second to glare at the older man. "Because if I killed Joey, who would Chris sleep with?"

Chris grew silent as Joey's temper just grew. "Some little punk ass kid like you couldn't lay a hand on me," he threatened.

"Oh, what are you gonna do, eat me?" Justin shot back, stepping up to Joey.

"Guys, cut it out," J.C. warned, stepping in between the two. "We're going back to the hotel now, remember?"

"I am not riding with him," Justin spat, looking from J.C. to Joey.

"Same here," Joey said.

"Guys, don't pull this again," Lance complained. "I'm tired and we have a show and by that time, you all have to be friends again. Can't we just all ride together?"

"NO." Justin and Joey replied together.

J.C. threw his hands up. "Fine. Justin, you're with me. We'll get a cab for Chris and Joey."

"Wait a minute," Chris spoke up. "Me and Joey need the car. We're not done yet."

"You can't have the car," J.C. replied. "How many beers did you have?"

"I only had three, and I'm twenty nine years old and I can drive myself!" Chris argued.

"No, I want to drive," Joey said.

J.C. turned to Joey, beginning to get annoyed. "Joey, how many fingers?"

Joey studied J.C.'s hand. After pulling it towards his face, his mouth dropped open. "There's one finger and it's the wrong one!" he exclaimed.

J.C. rolled his eyes. "Which is why you are not driving." He reached in his pocket. "Chris, keys."

Chris caught the flying keys with one hand. "See, now could I do that if I were drunk?"

J.C. turned to Justin and Lance. "Let's get going. We're losing precious sleeping time."

"We'll see you later," Chris called over his shoulder as he led Joey to the valet man.

"Try to come home in time to change!" Lance yelled back as the cab pulled to a stop in front of him.

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"Where are we going now?" Joey asked as he played with his fingers.

"We're going back to the hotel," Chris replied.

"What? Why? The night is still young!" Joey slurred, then he giggled.

"Because we've been to every club with in forty-five miles, and we have to get up in an hour and a half," Chris reasoned. He glanced at the speedometer. Fifty-five. It took all his concentration to keep it there.

"But that doesn't mean we can't start over again," Joey beamed.

"Joey, your drunk off your ass. You don't need to start over again." Chris squinted out the windshield and leaned forward.

"Don't be lookin at my ass," Joey said, squeezing a hand between the seat and his butt. "And you are too so don't blame this on me."

Chris wasn't listening. He was studying the taillights in front of them, hoping the car would drive past their hotel. He really couldn't read the signs and drive at the same time right now.

Joey began laughing and laid his head back against the seat. "This is fun. Let's do this every day."

"No, that's okay," Chris murmured. He continued staring at the red lights in front of them.

"You're no fun when you're drunk," Joey babbled.

"I'm trying to drive," Chris yawned.

"What?" Joey asked.

Chris glanced at him. "What?" Joey sat with a grin on his face and Chris looked at the speedometer again. Still fifty-five.

"Woah, that was cool."

Chris looked at him again. "What?"

Joey pointed with a smile. "There go the lights!"

Chris turned back to the road, just in time to see the taillights he had been following turn to the left. In their place, appeared a tree with a three-foot diameter.

Time seemed to slow. The front bumper and chrome grillwork collapsed against the rough tree bark. Slivers of steel penetrated the tree to the depth of more than an inch and a half. The hood began to rise, then crumbled and smashed into the windshield, causing it to spider-web before Joey and Chris. The spinning rear wheels left the ground.

The car's heavy structure begins to slow down, but its passengers continue traveling at the car's original speed. This creates a force twenty times the normal force of gravity, and Chris and Joey's straight and rigid legs snap at the knees.

The guys are still alive. Chris's body is off the seat, his broken knees pressing straight against the dashboard. His head is near the sun visor, and his chest is above the steering column. His convulsive death grip begins to bend the plastic and steel frame of the steering wheel.

Now the car's front 24 inches are crushed, but the rear is still traveling at 35 miles per hour. The half-ton motor block crunches into the tree. The rear of the car, like a bucking horse, rises high enough to scrape the bark off the tree's lowest branches.

Chris's still clutching hands bend the steering column into an almost vertical position. The force of gravity thrusts Chris's body through the column. Jagged steel punctures his lungs and arteries. Chris's feet are ripped from his shoes and the brake pedal shears off at the floorboard.

The chassis bends in the middle, shearing the bolts that hold the car together. Chris and Joey's head smash into the windshield. The rear of the car begins to fall back down, and the spinning wheels dig into the ground.

The whole body of the car is twisted and forced out of shape. Hinges tear, the doors swing open. In one last convulsion, the driver's seat rams forwards, pinning Chris against the splintered steering wheel column. Blood is spurting from both their mouths, and the shock freezes their hearts.

They are now dead.

One second has passed since the car's first contact with the tree.

Finish

Crash from 'Death in a Split Second' by Sgt. Floegel, Troop K
Traffic Supervisor, Ohio
Highway Safety Department

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Email: jaysmyrascal@cs.com