Every 15 Minutes: Learning to drive safely
April 25, 2024.
Today I died. All I wanted to do was have fun with my friends, but one careless mistake would not only take my life but also take the life of Maggie Wilmott.
I laid dead on the hood of the car, my blood seeping deeper into my clothes as all the different sirens echoed through Castro Valley. Aliyah Tillotson screamed in agony as she saw my lifeless body, begging for me to wake up. Tillotson drunkenly screamed at an even more intoxicated Lew.
“What did you do? What did you do Braden!” she repeated as the first responders arrived at the scene. Shortly after Lew would be handcuffed and put in the back of the cop car for failing the sobriety test he had undergone. He would end up serving 15 years in prison and pay $40,000 for the lives taken and damage done.
Cassidy Cu saw the life of her dreams, all her goals and achievements crumble while the firefighter tied a Torniquete at the top of her left knee, this would go on to save her life, but not her leg. Later on, she would lose her scholarship to University of Oregon for acrobatic tumbling.
April 25, 2024: Reality.
While walking into the CFA I was greeted by lots of warm smiles and big hugs. My friends and I joked about what we were about to do as I got into the makeup chair. The room stared in disbelief as they saw me covered in bloody cuts and bruises. Months of preparation had finally come together, today was the day I would die.
We walked up to the stadium in almost complete silence, it was cold and gloomy. With 10 minutes to prepare we had to move quickly, everyone got into their cars, and fake blood was poured all over and around us. With only a few minutes remaining the walking dead held the tarps up around us, the people in my car practiced their lines, and I laid as still as possible.
We heard the students settle into their seats when all of a sudden the car crash sounds played. The tarps were lifted, cold, and disoriented, all I could do was lay still as Tillotson let out some gut-wrenchingly disturbing screams begging for me to wake up.
Once I had been pronounced dead a tarp was put over me, finally, I was able to open my eyes after what felt like an eternity. Not being able to move would quickly get to me, I was forced to either close my eyes again or stare at my arm dripping in blood as “glass” stuck out of the very real-looking cut. I felt like I was in some sort of sleep paralysis, the different sirens, screaming, crying, and the other car being ripped apart all made me want to jump up and remind myself it was fake. As I was driven home in the back of the coroner’s car, I imagined all the people who laid in my same spot but didn’t get the privilege to walk out.
The retreat was at San Damiano, the rest of the afternoon we spent with each other. Not having a phone wouldn’t be too difficult, the real challenge would be not being able to tell what time it was. Officer Jen and Muscle Man talked for a while, telling us personal and on the job stories. After dinner, we would be shown the tests police give someone suspected to be driving intoxicated while wearing drunk and high goggles to simulate what our brain sees when you are intoxicated. At the end of the night, we were asked to write a letter to a loved one.
That night I laid in bed unable to sleep after such an emotional and adrenaline-filled day. Although I was grateful for the experience, I could not wait to be alive again.