Have you ever heard of a story, lived through one, that completely changed the way you see something? 

For most people, impaired driving is just a topic in health classes,or, something teachers talk about with videos and statistics. But for me, it change the way of thinking, that was the day my cousin passed away. I never thought distracted driving would hit my family the way it did. he wasn't drinking or doing drugs, neither was it for speeding or racing. It was just a text message. One short  text that he was sending  to his sister... and well, those messages ended up being the last thing he ever did.

My family still remember the moment we found out. We were all at home, and everything felt normal , like any other da. But after a call my mom received, everything change, my family didn't even knew how to tell my cousins mother. After hours of waiting, one of my other aunts, came; it was 11:42 p.m, and we were outside our house, we heard a scream, sobbing and crying. We could feel the pain too.

My cousin wasn't. a reckless personal all. He was actually the type who looked out for everyone. He was the guy who offered rides, who reminded people to buckle their seat belts, who checked up on you if you looked upset. that's what it even harder. the fact that someone so carful could make one tiny mistake, just to glance down to reply to his little sister, and could never make it back home. I remember learning later that the he drove into the intersection without stopping at the stop sign, that was at the same time a semi was going northbound, on the intersection, and that little second, hit his pickup and landed on the median of the road. That was enough to end with his life.

After that, driving stopped being something I looked forward to. I used to think getting my lincese would feel like freedom . But when it finally happened, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Even now, every time I start the car, I think about how fragile everything is. I'm not perfect, but I try harder than ever to stay focused. I put my phone away so I don't get tempted and put it on"don't disturb". I don't let other people pressure me into looking at directions while I'm moving , I would preferred to pull over . I don't try to eat, change music, or take calls.

People something joke around me about being "extra" , but they don't understand what it feels like to lose someone that way. They don't see the way the family fell apart. The way family gathering change, holidays, and even connections, I don't speak to my cousins sister anymore, because she locked herself in her own world...
It wasn't just his life that ended that day, it was a piece of everyone who loved him.

His story changed the way I think about impaired driving more than any lecture or video ever could. So when we get reunions at school about distracted driving, they usually talk in a percentage , but behind every number number is someone like my cousin, someone real, with a family who expected them to come home. And I think that's what people forget. We always assume accidents happen to " other people" but the truth is the anyone can have their life change in a second.

 Sometimes I think about what things would be like if he had just waited those few seconds before replying. He would still be here.He would still be laughing , joking, and living his life.
His sister wouldn't have to carry the guilt of being the person he was texting. His mother wouldn't cry every time his birthday came around.
And I wouldn't be writing an essay about him...I"d be still seeing him at family gatherings , and parties. 

Losing him din't just make me more careful, it made me more aware of how much my choices affect the people around me.Now, when I'm behind te wheel, I feel responsible not only for myself but for the people who love me. I dont want them to go through what my cousins family went through. And every time I hear my phone buzz while im driving, I remind myself of my cousin. His story is the reason I keep mu eyes on the road. His story is the reason I don't take risks. His story Is the reason I speak up when my friends try to text and drive.

In the end, his death taught me something painful but important: nothing, absolutely nothing , on our phones is worth a life. Whatever text, notification, or song change , can wait. I wish he had waited. I wish we could back and change that moment. But since we can't, the only thing we can do is learn from it.

And I have. His story shaped the way I drive, the way I think, and the way I value people while they're still here. If sharing what happened to him can make even one person think twice before texting and driving, then his story continues to make a difference.