I was finally ready to talk to Ryan that weekend. I knew he was going to be at the party at Dylan's house, the quarterback of the football team. I planned on going to Dylan's by myself or with Payton and then subtly pulling Ryan to the side and talking to him. The party was right after the homecoming game, so that I could talk to Ryan about us and about the dance. I got into one of my party dresses, a short black dress with a wide yellow belt at the waist. It had wide straps and just a low enough neckline to show off a bit of cleavage. I slid a pair of yellow wedges on with some matching earrings and got into my car. I drove a bit, and for once I was actually doing the speed limit. A guy in an Escalade drove behind me, and was starting to tailgate. I tapped my brakes a little to make him back off, but he only moved closer. After a while, he moved into the oncoming lane to pass me, but obviously didn't see the truck coming. He swerved back into our lane, clipping my front bumper. That's the last thing I remember.

I woke up to a steady beeping sound; beep…beep…beep…beep. I also heard distant indecipherable chatter. My head and ribs were throbbing. I opened my eyes slowly and saw what I figured was a hospital room. I saw my dad sitting on a small couch figuring out a crossword puzzle and my mom curled up next to him, asleep. Under her eyes were dark rings of mascara, as though she'd been crying.

"Dad?" I said, although my voice wasn't as strong as I had wanted it to be. He hadn't heard me. "Dad?" I said again, straining my voice so that it would be heard over the sounds of the various machines.

He turned his head and instantly started crying as he rushed over to me. "Caroline, oh, God, you're awake." He kissed my forehead and continued crying. "Thank God, thank God."

"What happened?" I asked him.

He didn't answer and just held me close to him. I could hear his heart beating in my ear. My father kissed my forehead again and awoke my mom. She also hurried to my side.

"I'm going to tell the nurses," Dad said as he walked towards the door.

My mom was crying and hugging me. "I thought you'd never wake up, oh, God…" her voice trailed off as another sob crept up on her.

I was scared. How long had I been sleeping? What was wrong with me? I also began crying and winced as my tears stung what must have been cuts across my face. My mother held me firmly and sobbed onto my pillow. I closed my eyes. I would have tried to hold Mom back, but my arms were so weak that I couldn't. I heard the nurses rush in with my father. I opened my eyes. Mom sat up and wiped her face with a Kleenex. The nurses took my vitals and asked me the usual questions: What is my name, how old am I, what are my parents' names, what school do I go to, et cetera. I answered their questions and then asked my own question: "What happened to me?"

One of the nurses whose nametag read TARA began to explain as she read the information off a clipboard, "You were driving down County Line Road when a man tried to pass you," I tried to nod but instantly regretted it – there was a sharp pain that shot down my neck and down my back. Tara continued, "He pulled back into your lane when he saw an oncoming truck, and hit your front left bumper with his back right bumper and your car turned and flipped twice. You're lucky you have such a good car – Volkswagens are very safe."

The other nurse, Will, started talking. "You ended up bruising three of your ribs, breaking your collarbone and right wrist, and getting a concussion and some serious whiplash. You also have a bunch of cuts and bruises on your face and chest from the airbag and the glass from the windshield. You came in here four days ago, now; you've been unconscious since. You're in the ICU too, because we wanted to keep your coma under close watch."

I couldn't respond to what they were saying, all I could do was cry a little more. I was in disbelief. My dad told the nurses that he wanted to speak with them some more, and they walked into the hallway. My mom walked over to me and kissed my forehead. "I love you so much," she told me. She then joined the nurses and my dad in the hallway.

I looked around my dark, gloomy room and noticed a pile of cards on the chest across the room. I didn't see any flowers or balloons, but I did see a small duffel bag on the floor, full of my parents' clothes and toiletries. There were two blankets and two pillows next to the couch, and my dad's crossword puzzle book and a pencil were strewn across the cushions. As I drifted off to sleep, I heard everyone come back into the room. I heard my dad say 234, and I felt my bed jerk. I was carefully lifted into the air and placed back down on a colder bed. The bed started moving and the movement carried me off to sleep.