Rumors and Rebellion

As mentioned in the previous post, my name was released on the local news station and in the local newspaper. Kids are cruel......

I started my junior year in high school the month after the accident. It was on the first day of school that I heard the rumors running ramped through the school. Apparently, the story of a 16 year old hitting a 14 year old with a car just wasn't enough, it had to be embellished. It was rumored that I was driving 65 mph when I hit him and that he was killed. (if you have read the previous posts, you know just how untrue that was).

I was greeted on my first day of school with people calling me "Mario Andrede" (the race car driver) and a murderer. Yep, a murderer. I remember one boy asking me how it felt to kill someone. I lost all interest in school and slipped into severe depression......

Looking back with a more mature mind, I know why I chose the path I did after that. It makes one feel better about themselves if they are around people who are worse off than they are. I started hanging out with a group of very "bad" kids. I ditched school, began drinking alcohol, used drugs (mostly pot, but I did experiment with coke and acid), got into physical fights, and began disrespecting my parents severely(something that to this day I feel horrible about, I have apologized endlessly to both of them, it just still doesn't seem like enough). I became a terrible kid.

The accident and my subsequent actions rocked any foundation that my family still had left to the core. Mom and I fought constantly. Dad was around less and less. My brother hated me and let me know about it. He had no idea about the "call" (previous post) and he blamed me for my parents situation. Mom and Dad began to fight, a lot. The fighting was always about me.

My parents had different views on discipline. Mom being the hard ass and Dad being much more lenient. Then, I thought it was because Dad and I were so much alike (which we are) and that he "understood" my desire to party and have fun. Dad did his fair share in high school and college. Mom did not. She is one of those people that has done everything "right" her entire life (a post for a later date). Now, I believe that, in all reality, Dad knew he was going to loose his family and he was deathly afraid of being alone. By being lenient and the "cool" parent, he was ensuring that I would stay with him. And I did.......

Our family became divided under one roof. Dad and me. Mom and Korbyn. We went to numerous counselors, many of which I have no recollection of what so ever. By that Christmas, 6 months after the accident, Dad and I were living in a hotel room. I was still a troubled mess.

I got a minor in possession of alcohol ticket (kinda a funny story, I threw up on a cop, oops!) and had 6 months added to my already indefinite probation. I NEVER went to school. A huge violation of my probation.

Dad and I eventually got a house and it became rare that I ever saw my Mom (more to regret today). I was constantly crying and out of control. I was suspended from school for having so many truancies. Dad was at a loss. He knew I needed help, but I wasn't going to my counselor like I was supposed to. A little over a year after the accident Dad placed me in an in house treatment facility. (again a post for another day) I was there for a total of about a month and a half. They worked with me a lot on coping with the accident and my family situation while I was there and when I was released I felt a little better and felt like I could possibly put the accident behind me. But......

Two weeks after I was released from the facility Dad got a phone call from my insurance companies lawyer. Turns out the $100,000+ that the family of the boy I hit received just wasn't enough. They were suing the insurance company for $4.5 million dollars(greedy bastards). The lawyer explained to us that there would be a jury trial. The purpose of the trial was to determine fault in the accident. If the jury found me entirely at fault they would be awarded the money. They wanted me to testify. We obtained two letters from two different doctors saying that it would be detrimental to my mental and physical well being for me to testify. I was informed I would testify anyway.

On the day I was set to go to court, I was literally sick. I had my first panic attack. When Dad and I arrived at the court house the attorney for my insurance company called us into a little room. He told us that he had been up all night thinking about the trial. He said that he had children of his own and that he felt that he just couldn't live with himself if he put me on the stand. He knew I couldn't handle it (God bless him). I did not have to even enter the court room.

I never heard details about what went on in the court room and I don't want to. All I know is the outcome. The jury determined that that the accident was 70% my fault (because I was driving a car) and %30 the boys fault (because he was in the middle of the street, in black clothes, at night). The family was awarded $450,000. And in case your wondering, the boy made a complete recovery and was the star of his basketball team.

So, the story of my tragic accident was over. I eventually graduated high school, a semester late, but I did it and I began taking classes at the college. In August of 2002, I was married.

And that, my friends, is the beginning of the next life shattering event.....

Stay tuned!