Jennifer Thompson

Boys & Girls Clubs of Santa Monica

Special To The Mirror

   The Boys & Girls Clubs of Santa Monica has begun a new program called Smart Moves, which helps young people avoid four of the most immediate threats to their well-being: alcohol, tobacco, other drugs, and teen pregnancy.

   Candace Hernandez, a student at Santa Monica High School with a 4.0 average, is the new vice president for the Boys & Girls Clubs of Santa Monica’s Leaders-In-Training program. She says, "I am in Smart Moves because it has always been my wish to work with children and teens" and wrote the following poem. which she read at a Club gathering.

Why Me?

"Remember be responsible" those were the words

that I heard as I waltzed out the door. Tonight

everyone should be responsible. Right?

It’s prom night. If everyone else is responsible, I

won’t have to be. Actually, I am responsible and

I’ll be responsible for my self.

My mistake was that I assumed everyone

else would be responsible too.

I walked to the limo escorted by my date.

As we went in, I was offered something

to drink. I declined.

They said I should. That’s why I refused.

Tonight I will be responsible. Tonight I will.

So we arrived at the prom "dressed to kill."

I have to admit that we did look pretty good.

We all walked in strutting our stuff.

We danced the night away.

When it was time to leave, we said our good-byes.

I went home to change.

We all decided to go to an after-party.

I got in my car and started the longest and last

journey of my life.

I went to the party and was very responsible.

I didn’t drink, do drugs, or anything else that

would harm my body.

I got back in my car about two hours later, after refusing

about 30 offers to drink.

I was proud of myself and I still am.

On my way home, I had to drive down some

winding hills.

I turned a sharp corner and then another.

But then everything happened so fast.

I turned another corner.

BRIGHT LIGHTS. EXCRUCIATING

PAIN. CONFUSION.

It happened so fast. My life--here on minute,

gone the next.

I was responsible, really responsible. Really.

I didn’t drink, I didn’t do anything bad.

RED LIGHTS FLASHING. SIRENS LOUD.

PEOPLE COMING.

I can’t see anything besides red lights. I can hear.

I can’t feel. I can smell. Dried blood.

My blood.

"This one won’t make it." What?!?

Wait a minute you can’t just give up on me.

NOT NOW. please...please...

WHITE LIGHT (my eyes are closed)

A TUNNEL. BIG.

HELP! HELP! NOT YET! PLEASE! WAIT!

I’M TOO YOUNG! MOMMY! DADDY! ANYONE!

I’m screaming but nothing is coming out.

The last thing I hear is, "she was sober, he was drunk."

I was responsible. He wasn’t. Why me?