After my senior year of college I drove to Vermont with my two best friends. Their family owned a home in a wooded area outside of Bennington. After I arrived, it began to snow heavily, yet we remained undaunted by the weather and hopped into their car to go into town. As we crossed a narrow bridge, I was later told a car crashed head-on into us. My only memory was before the crash when I heard my friend shout, "Shit." When I opened my eyes I was in the midst of being lifted out of the car onto a stretcher. A plastic surgeon at the local hospital sewed my forehead with 16 stitches. I now have my very own scarlet letter.