It was 5 am. My tangled hair was knotted as I shifted on the bed. "Raney, wake up." My dad's voice was faint. But it was there. It was soft, quiet. But it was loud enough to wake me up. I rolled over, and tugged the blanket over my head. Attempting to shut him out, I lay on the bed, snuggling into the mattress. He moved so fast , he was moving with a sense of urgency when I lifted the edge of the blanket and peered out.

"Raney come on, there's been an accident." My voice comes out a lot croakier than I had expected. Sitting up, I gaze at my dad, frowning softly. "What kind of accident?" My voice comes out quiet, almost mute, muttered, a bit slurred. He buttons up his shirt, sighing. "Your cousin Jordan was killed last night." He whispers. I felt horrible. Jordan? Jordan who?

I crawled out of bed, confusion immediately shot through me as I frantically thought about who he was talking about. It hadn't dawned on me that he was talking about death yet. I sluggishly moved around the room, pulling my clothes on. I didn't know where we were going, but he was in a hurry to get there. We ran down the stairs to the car and he gave a few deep sighs before cranking the car, the ignition roaring.

He pulled out of the parking lot, and he drove down the highway. It was the direction we always went in when we were going to my grandma's. That's when my stomach fell, face paled, brows creased, and lips parted. Jordan. Of course. My parents are divorced and he was one of my cousins, but I rarely saw him, rarely spoke to him. He was older, 22... Maybe it was 23.

God, I felt so terrible not knowing. I was close to his sister, Macy, but not close enough. We pulled up to my grandmas, several cars surrounding her home. My dad gave one last breathy sigh. I suppose he knew what we were about to walk in on. My throat tightened for him. Is it foolish to cry over someone you barely knew? It must not of been, because when we opened the doors and walked in, I broke down. Everyone glanced over, some ran over to hug me, whispering reassuring and calming words. I didn't know what had happened to him. But my grandma was crying, and she never cries.

It was too emotional, too sad, to soon. He was so young. All of my cousins stood in the living room, sobbing. It was affecting me, the way they were all holding each other, sobbing yet so silent as if they didn't know what to say. They were all close, but that's because their ages were very close and they grew up together, while I grew up at my moms house, alone, without them. I hugged them a few more times while my dad comforted my grandma. My aunt led me to the back where my cousin, katelyn, was. I was closest to her. She's a year younger, yet she's like my best friend.

She was sleeping and I was coughing, spluttering, trying to breath as sobs racked my body. Why was I crying so hard? Her eyes fluttered open and she was in this state of pure confusion, the one I had been in when I woke up (she was in the same stage of confusion I had been in when I'd woken up.). I told her what happened(, but) and she didn't cry. Her eyes watered but she held it in. She was closer to him than I was, saw him more than I did.
This had such a huge impact on me and I don't, nor will I ever, know why. I found out a few weeks later that the story was on the news. A truck had been pulled off to the side, a white one, one person inside. Jordan had been driving down the highway, no doubt fast. But that's where the story gets confusing. One person in each car, Jordan was driving down the highway, sober or drunk, I don't know, but we know for sure one was drunk. A white truck was parked on the side of the road, and somehow they crashed. I suppose you would assume that it was all of Jordan's fault, but somehow, my family managed to, out of grief, blame the man who was parked. I never found out all the details, but it all ends up in the same place, Don't drink and drive.