by Mr. Smith

Created on: April 21, 2008   Last Updated: April 22, 2008

Lessons of Life

"You idiot. You God dammed idiot." These are the words I heard before I blacked out. I don't blame them though - my parents, that is. They just needed time to cool down and understand. Though, I guess staggering through the front door of our house at three in the morning with alcohol poisoning would take quite some time to understand. There was also the well known fact that I was merely fourteen years old. Quite some time to understand indeed.

I will not deny that my parents told me never to drink until I was of age. In fact, they did this very often. Truthfully, I believed in their words, but I knew people drank for a reason, and I needed to know why. Words could only hold me back for so long as my curiosity - which was mixed with my childhood ignorance - began to take hold of my mind. The simple thought of satisfying that curiosity excited me, and also a good friend of mine. Hence, the plans were created.

The brilliant arrangement was formed by me and that friend one warm summer night at his house: I would steal alcohol from my parent's cupboard, sleep over at his house, and we would simply get drunk. It seemed like a good, solid plan. My blind commitment to this activity would soon prove to be a mistake, but it would ironically prove to be one of the best decisions of my life.

As I took the first drink, a shot of whiskey, I heard my parents voices. "DO NOT DRINK." "Drinking is just plain bad. Wait until you're of age and don't make the mistake that so many others have." Interestingly my mother spoke similar words to me before I left my house that night. Of course, what teenager always obeys their parents?

I had thirteen shots of all types of alcohol - whiskey, rum, vodka - all in under an hour. Anyone who knows anything about drinking would know that I could suffer death from such a high amount my first time. The reason I had so many was because I didn't know how long it would be until I started to feel the effects, and when I did, they were disastrous.

At first, I felt great. I felt like I didn't have to worry about anything; everything was funny. The stupidity linked with alcohol soon became apparent. My friend actually convinced me that a tree (a tree!) was insulting me, so I punched it in its "face". My knuckles were bruised and my hand was torn up, but I didn't care. I was absolutely convinced that the tree insulted me, and I was proud that I "hurt" it. Not five minutes after that wonderful event, my eyes started to fail. Things were

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