I gripped the steering wheel of my old Jeep Wrangler tighter, my knuckles turning a ghostly white. Another car stopped behind me and the driver honked mercilessly in an attempt to force me to move forward. He then rolled down his window, stuck his head out the window and shouted roughly, “Are you blind? The light is green for God's sake! » I hesitated, but then the provocative red light flashed in my eyes and I felt my foot. hit the floor of the car. As I sped through the red light, I looked in the rearview mirror to see the face of the driver in the car behind me change to one of complete disbelief as he and his car remained stationary. Once again, nothing happened. I wasn't touched. I run red lights all the time and nothing happens, but the one time she runs a red light she dies. One careless mistake and his entire life is taken away from him, and with it mine is completely altered. How is this fair? Today is the anniversary of his death. It's been five years since October 12, 2005, and for those five years I've been without a mother and with virtually no support.....