As a teenager, time and time again, I am asked the question, "want a drink?" My response to the request always catches the others by surprise. Do I want a drink? To me, this question is so much more. This person, standing across from me, trying to hand me a beer, might as well be saying, "Do you want to pour this poison into your mouth following by another and another until you can drink no more? Do you want to fall on the floor unconscious and be vulnerable to anyone who walks by? Do you want to rely on someone else to pick you up when you fall in your own vomit onto the grass? Do you want nasty rumors to be started about you tomorrow and not remember if they are true? Do you want to find out next month you are pregnant and not know who the father is, or even when you conceived the baby? Do you want to get behind the wheel unaware of your actions; saying your're okay to drive home, but knowing you aren't? And when you get in the car proving how strong you are and that "you can handle a little alcohol," you drive down the street and misjudge that stop sign. You thought it was farther. You didn't see the car coming. You didn't mean to kill that family innocently driving through the night to reach whatever destination they chose. When asked, "Do you want a drink?" I always just smile and say "no thank you."