The theater is dark, the lights go down and they have little idea what they are in store for. 2000 students, of the age to start driving or just started driving. A few mobile phones are flickering whilst Snapchats are read, and whatsapps are contributed to… and then silence. The projection screen comes up with a short film where some teenagers get into a car and start driving. Statistically a lethal cocktail with inexperienced and confident young people. There’s an innocent distraction in the car and it ends up crashing. The scene shows the occupants unconscious with a little blood, but mainly steam from the engine and the music that had been playing in the car is now silenced. The darkness envelopes the car before a scream joins the atmospheric scene. You can feel the panic, and you can then see the blue lights of a police car approaching.
I’m looking at a 6 year old boy. He’s dead, hit by a car. His parents looking down at his little body, they are holding the hand of their other 11 year old son. I remember little about the boy, I remember everything about the look on the faces of what was left of his family. An expression I had never seen before, and hope will never see again.
I am looking at a car of Teenagers. All dressed in jeans and T-shirts ready to drive off again, not a mark on them, except they cannot, because they are dead. I remember Anna who was killed instantly by a drunk driver. I remember her bare feet and flip flops in the foot well of the car, not her obvious fatal head injury.