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Consulting

Drug & Drink Driving

By webdev-swl  Published On April 3, 2019

By Watch Commander Nick Bell
NT Fire and Rescue Service - Operations

‘It’s ok, I’m a good driver.  I know what I’m doing!’

The pain is enormous. My chest is heaving, I’m fighting for breath and I feel weak. I can see twisted, distorted, crumpled metal and smashed glass everywhere. My girlfriend sitting next to me is silent; her head bent forward, blood running fast from her nostrils onto her lap, running out of her head as if a tap has been turned on full. But that’s not water. It’s thick, rich, crimson blood and I can smell it. It comes from a place deep within her brutally broken body and it tells of damaged organs that cannot be fixed.

I feel sick and I vomit all over myself, old food and stomach fluid leak out of my smashed mouth and onto my chest. I look down at the mess, the vile stench fills my nostrils and my stomach tightens. I vomit again.

My girlfriend’s forehead is resting on what’s left of the dashboard of my car. I can see she’s felt the full force of the violent impact but she’s trapped so badly that I think the firewall of my car is crushing her to death, squeezing the life out of her body. Her face is so terribly disfigured from the injuries that I think her beautiful face will be ugly and un-kissable for the rest of her life if she lives. I know it’s her but I really don’t recognise her. I see parts of her scalp embedded into the smashed windscreen from the massive impact, long strands of her once beautiful hair still attached. She is twitching but I know she is not with me; it’s her body fighting for life and losing. What have I done to her? I think I’ve killed her! Oh God, NO………

Where is everybody to help us! I can barely move my head to see around me, I think my neck is broken. Oh God, please don’t let me be paralysed and never walk again, please, oh please! I can’t feel a thing below my waist and deep down I know something is terribly wrong. The steering wheel is pushing hard into my chest, starving me of air. Why won’t anyone come and help us! I can’t keep this up much longer.  Everything is getting dark.

I try to move my arms but they are pinned fast and won’t obey my commands. My body has been compressed into a small crushing space, jammed hard between the dash and the seat. My body is useless, nothing is working and I know it never will again. I have done this to myself; I have done this to my girl. I feel disgust and self-loathing like never before.

I strain to see out the window, as a face appears that I do not recognise and she looks at me. Her look of horror, her wide frightened eyes, her hand over her mouth tells me of the nightmare that has just begun. I see her on the phone talking frantically to someone. She turns her back and leaves me moving quickly away from my car.

I look through what is left of the windscreen and I see a power pole. It is deeply wedged into the front of my car pushing everything back onto my girl and me. I am conscious of a presence behind me and it is now that I realise I had two friends in the backseat of my car before all this happened. Oh, God, will this ever end! I strain harder to turn my head to try to see my friends but it refuses to obey me. If I am so badly crushed here, my friends must be torn apart in the back because there is no room anywhere.

I keep smelling blood. I had no idea it smelled so bad but I can’t escape my prison and I am forced to inhale the horrible odour. The regret for what I have done and what I now feel is irrelevant. The moment of impact has swept that away and now I am left with the consequence.

‘My mates will look after me if there’s any trouble.’

I remember drag racing but not much after that. The drugs and beer at the party were great and flowed like water. I can’t understand how this has happened because I’ve done it heaps of times before and got away with it. My mates were in the car next to me, racing too, laughing as we were speeding. Where are they now? Why have they taken off? Why didn’t they stop? Why have they left us here to die? Aren’t they supposed to be my mates? I feel rage but this is quickly replaced by deep sorrow. I feel sorry for myself and the tears fall from my smashed eyes.

‘I don’t need anyone to tell me what to do.  What the hell would they know?

I hear sirens now. They are way off and it scares me. They come for my girl and me and my friends but what can they do when I have damaged us so much? The vomiting starts again.

I see uniforms. I can make out the different colours and badges but they are moving quickly around me and my head is swirling. I can’t make sense of it all. A fire fighter and an ambulance officer’s face appear in the window next to me. They are talking to me but I can’t understand a word they are saying. I hear an engine start and a huge pair of what looks like scissors starts to cut my mangled car from around me.

The fire fighters working frantically to get me out are sweating in their big jackets, wrestling with the gear they are using. Why aren’t they trying to get my girl out first? What’s wrong? What’s going on? I try to talk and a paramedic puts her ear close to my mouth but nothing comes out. I want to tell her how much I am hurting all over but no sound comes from me. I am cold and I am lonely and no one can hear me. I have done this to myself.

The car shudders and jerks. The door next to me comes off and the fire fighters toss it aside.

I see one squat on the ground and look down at my trapped legs. He looks worried and talks quietly and quickly with another. I am terrified by the look on everyone’s faces. The fire fighter’s get back to work and as the pain shoots through my body, I scream but no one notices. Not a sound has come from me, just more frothy blood at my lips. I can’t stand the pain now but my rescuers are oblivious to this as they cut away at my car. My screaming goes on and on as the pain builds but I make no noise. The paramedic is working on me but struggles to find a spot on my arm to plunge a needle in.

I try to look to my side. The police are there and they are helping the fire fighters. I am seeing these people in a different way. They are my saviours but will also witness my death. I can see the stress and strain etched on their faces.  A look of horror controlled for me as a victim but I see clearly now the price they are paying. I want to reach for them and say sorry but my body is giving up and won’t respond.

I start to negotiate with God. I beg for my life. I ask him for a second chance to make this right. A second chance to live and love again. Another moment in time to say no, when all I did was say yes. As the pain rips through me I know that God is not listening and is calling me.

‘It will never happen to me.’

I now know I am dying. My car is now my coffin. The Grim Reaper has pointed me out for execution and I cannot do a thing about it. I have given him all the tools he needs to kill me – drugs, alcohol, speed and my own stupidity. I have thrown away every good thing in my life to end up like this – a bloody, smashed, vomit covered mess trapped in my car with my dying girlfriend, waiting my turn to die. A few minutes ago I was a big, strong man, but now I am human wreckage, brutally torn apart and beyond repair and I am frightened. I am shaking with fear and I want my mum and dad but they are not here and I will never see them again. Ever. I did this to myself and the searing pain that wracks my body presses home this fact.

The cost

Never again will I feel the embrace of a beautiful woman, make love and know what it’s like to be a father or kiss a child goodnight. I know I will never again go fishing, play footy, run with my friends or swim in the ocean. I will never again laugh with my family, taste a BBQ sausage, see another family meal, argue with my brother, debate politics with my father, watch my little sister win another trophy for netball. I will never again feel the tropical sun on my face, the Dry Season breeze in my hair, the monsoon rain on my shoulders. I will not live to see a sunset or a sunrise, a full moon or an eclipse.

I have taken all of this away from myself and I have snatched it away from my girl and my two friends in the backseat too. In killing me, I have killed my family because they will never recover from this. I will not be around to explain to them why or help and hold them as they weep for years to come. My life that is so precious has been tossed away and I have done this. I am responsible and as I sit here bleeding out, I am paying the ultimate price. The price I have paid is enormous with no payoff, no reason, and nothing in return  – just pointless and meaningless death before my time.

I am a Territorian just like you.

Nick Bell was a Watch Commander in the NT Fire & Rescue Service and has responded to countless critical / emergency incidents in his time. Based in SE Qld, he is now working as a Risk, Crisis & Emergency, Critical Incident consultant & trainer and educator to the business world and advises on preparation and planning for all manner of Crisis and Emergency events. Nick also writes stories & articles for various magazines, journals and newspapers. 

Email – sdca1@bigpond.com

Phone – 0421 555 345


Road Crash Rescue
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