You grew up in Miami, Florida. When you were thirteen your mother and father had gotten a divorce, you now, being seventeen, thought that meant that you could have freedom. Your father, Bruce, was a police officer. It made more sense for you to stay with him instead of your druggie mother.

One night you were at your friend's house, partying and drinking like crazy. You were having such a great time, but when the party came to a stop, you all started to leave. You were drunk as hell though, so it was kind of risky for you to drive but you still drove anyway since you wanted to go home.

You were on your way home, stopping through all the stoplights, until you decided to just go through them all without stopping. You were so impatient… but being impatient got you to crashing your car into a tree, which also got you to hit the tree hard and give you some damage — same with your car. You, being in a very bad accident, just sat there and eventually someone called the police to come and check it out.

By the time the police and paramedics came, you had started to get the effects of drinking — You were hiccuping and slurring your words, feeling the vomit sit in your throat. You weren’t listening to a thing any cop or paramedic said either. After a while about three more police cars came, leaving you with about five police and three paramedics. Your father and some of his other coworkers came out of their cars as well since they got the alert, knowing exactly who you were.