Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul on Tough Stuff by Jack Canfield Read Free Book Online

to come to their schools and talk, that they considered me to be somebody who could help other kids.
    I realized that doing these presentations helped boost my self-esteem and confirmed for me that I never wanted to do drugs again. It hit me that I might be helping to save someone’s life or preventing another kid from getting involved with drugs.
    My mom and I still speak at schools and treatment centers together. Kids call me at home sometimes after our talks. Some thank me. Some share their own stories. Some even tell me that I shine—and that is the best part of all.
    Jenny Hungerford
As told to Susan K. Perry

That Warm Night
    I was invited to a party,
a few roads across town.
I thought I’d meet my friends there,
but they were not around.
    So I hopped into my beat-up car,
ready for adventure.
My mom came racing to my door,
I was ready for my lecture.
    Instead she told me softly,
to be careful that warm night.
I promised her that I’d drive safe,
that everything would be all right.
    I arrived at the location,
and accepted a small drink.
I didn’t really want it,
but I didn’t stop to think.
    Soon I was gulping cocktails,
feeling lighter with each sip.
And I felt so free, invincible,
as I swallowed the last drip.
    The room was spinning freely,
as I danced across the floor.
And I wondered why I hadn’t ever
drank this much before.
    Then, despite my happiness and fun,
my head began to ache.
I found my car keys in my purse,
’cause my brain was going to break.
    I stumbled across the gardens,
unlocked my beat-up car.
Started up the engine,
headed across town once more.
    But something tragic happened,
I didn’t see the light.
I didn’t see the people, either,
crossing that warm night.
    As I slid across the pavement,
I knew my time had come.
My head just kept on spinning,
all this for just some fun.
    The next moments were quite hazy,
as I lay mangled in the car.
Pain shooting through my body,
never thought it’d go this far.
    Heard sirens in the background,
rushing to my aid.
But as I closed my tired eyes,
I knew it was too late.
    As I saw the world below me,
my heart just filled with dread.
I saw the people that I hit,
and knew that they were dead.
    I cried so hard on that warm night,
as I floated through the sky.
Knowing that it was my fault,
and I never said good-bye.
    Now I’m floating up to heaven,
where I really don’t belong.
Brought so much pain to others,
did something really wrong.
    I killed six happy people,
four kids, a man and wife.
And I’m lying in a coffin,
because I lost my precious life.
    I see my mother’s upset face,
her eyes so filled with tears.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,
this is exactly what I feared.”
    I was just a normal teen,
who had too much to drink.
I had a boyfriend, did well in school,
but that night I didn’t think.
    So the next time you’re invited
to a party with your friends,
Please remember this could be
the night when it could end.
    I learned all this the hard way,
and made a terrible mistake.
So please don’t do what I did,
and drink as much as you can take.
    I had so much before me,
a great future straight ahead.
I wanted to be an actress,
but I can’t because I’m dead.
    It happened all so quickly,
didn’t even get to fight.
Didn’t know how fast my life could end,
I’ll always remember that warm night.
    Sarah Woo

What She Doesn’t Know
    My friend has a problem, and sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who notices her when she’s lost and she’s tormented and she’s alone in the world. And when she’s high, she comes to me and she tells me what she’s done, whether it’s speed or cocaine or something bigger and faster, something harder and louder, something else that takes the person I laugh with and depend on away.
    She is ripping herself away from her truth, and the only way I can reach her is to let her know that I care about her. All I