The First Sip

Maybe this is what happened.

It was the first dance of her wedding, a gleaming white purity in the seams of her gown.

Something strong was in the air, a breath of newness misting down

As her body ebbed and flowed beneath the stars and a new beginning crept over the moon.

A lovely fate beckoned her on like an apparent, buoyant loon.

The first day of the job was one of turmoil, an endless corporate sweat

The secretary waved and called her beautiful, a moment she wouldn’t forget

As she crept through looming, winking doors.

She was ready to seize ambition in her career, a new Napoleonic war.

The first college diploma sat firmly in her hands.

And her mind thought of her future, a detailed kind of plan.

Her parents said they loved her and her brother tousled her hair.

Her confusions of her successes blurred, her insecurities now impaired.

It was her first day of driving with a license slipped in her phone;

The roads belonged to her and a life path was now her own.

Control was at her fingertips, control was at the wheel

As she zoomed across the town she’s always known, hitting curbs with a squeal.

The first day of high school marked the beginning of a four-year trial

Where conflicts with friends appeared, arguments with parents spiraled.

Lines were drawn with pencil and mistakes blurred with eraser

As she became a dreamer, the ambitions of a storm chaser.

On a warm cricket night was the first embrace, the first kiss.

With a boy she’d known for years, who she’d always known she’d miss.

To the observing bats and owls, it was rather illustrious and plain.

But to her it changed her being, left a mark upon the brain.

Her first crush sat across the cafeteria in the seventh grade.

He slurped his chocolate milk and nearly choked on the sandwich his mother made.

She watched with reverence, peeking through lunch box handles

As she smoothed her pink floral dress, feeling her toes in her sandals.

Her name was Maya, her first best friend,

A girl of beaded hair and loneliness to mend.

They were official reading buddies, formal carpet pals;

They drained each other’s sorrows as dependable canals.

The first day of learning to ride a bike came quite quickly

But not without scraped knees and complaints fit for the sickly.

As soon as she was balanced, the bike zoomed ahead

As her parents watched proudly, standing upon marks of tread.

It was the first award she’d ever received as she tiptoed to the stage.

A simple yellow ribbon titled “first” was all the pre-school rage.

Her prize-winning portrait of various shades of red

Glimmered on the stage as the principal patted her head.

After tripping on the playground, it was the first tying of the shoe.

She sat by her dad on the park bench, hair messy and askew.

She was tangled in loops, shoestrings, and despair

Until she finally produced the bunny ears, the so-called knotted hares.

She took her first step on a Tuesday in July.

She stumbled and teetered and didn’t know why

But her feet began to hold firmly on the ground

Her family smiled as she tottered through the living room, round and around.

It was long after the first word of “mom,” which escaped her mouth with ease

It floated through the air, it drifted through the breeze

A laughing toddler, giggling with blubbered gibberish ‘til dawn

Until she fell asleep, shut her eyes, and everything was gone.

As lovely as it sounds, this is not exactly what happened.

It was fabricated and made up, truths unreliable, seatbelts that aren’t fastened.

You see, this tale is laced with maybes, hypotheticals, and theories,

For the truth isn’t so lovely and hopeful. The truth is rather dreary.

What happened was an accident, a dangerous first sip.

There was whiskey in the air, on his breath; a drunken kind of trip.

Her mother walked down the street, a moment she wouldn’t forget

As she carried her young daughter in her arms, drenched in a sweat.

He was driving faster now, empowered by the bottle

His senses were blurred, slightly impaired, as he pushed on the throttle.

She jumped out of her mother’s arms, into the road to chase a rabbit.

She felt she controlled the roads, often reprimanded for the habit.

Control was not at his fingertips, control was not at the wheel

He zoomed through a town he didn’t know, hitting something with a squeal.

That day marked the beginning of a never-ending trial

As the mother started to scream, yelling something vial.

He kept going, hearing screaming over yonder

But he shrugged his shoulders and kept driving, seemingly to maunder.

To the driver, or maybe to the alcohol, it all seemed rather illustrious and plain.

But to the mother, it changed her being, left a mark upon the brain.

Her daughter was just approaching the first grade;

Upon this realization, she nearly choked on the spit her distress had made.

She watched with horror, already imagining the funeral, the candles

As her daughter’s pink floral dress was torn, missing a sandal.

Her name was Sadie, her daughter, her best friend.

A girl of long blond hair, now lying in the road, a pain unable to mend.

All of the proceeding events came quickly,

As she knelt in the road, violently sobbing; her daughter looked sickly.

As she screamed violently, calling for help, an ambulance zoomed up ahead

As the mother looked down in horror, standing upon marks of tread.

Her head was on the pavement, surrounded by various shades of red.

Her mother collapsed over her, stroking her head.

Sadie was with eyes-closed, missing a shoe

Her hair was like her mother’s heart, messy, tangled, askew.

It happened on a Tuesday in July.

She screamed for the man in the truck, wanting to know why.

It was long after the accident when “mom” escaped Sadie’s mouth with ease.

It floated through the air, it drifted through the breeze.

Her mother began screaming, hysterically calling for help ‘til dawn

Until Sadie fell back asleep, shutting her eyes, and everything was gone.

A man who couldn’t love, so instead it seemed he drank.

Alcohol replaced the blood in his veins, the fuel in his tank.

She never had a first kiss, first day of school, a wedding, for she never got that far.

She never got her diploma, best friend, or life. She was hit by a car.

A first sip of alcohol, whether propelled by sadness or thirst,

Wrecked the life of Sadie. And it destroyed all her firsts.