Suicide Run

It was a dark and stormy night when it happened. Okay, it wasn't really; I'm trying to make light of a bad situation. Truth is, it was one of the worst...no, I'd have to say it was THE worst day of my entire life.
Her name was...IS Tammy, and she had been my date to the prom. I had known something was off when we picked up her friends, Natasha and Noel. Perhaps it was because their driveway was on such a steep slope that I never questioned anything. The four of us said our hellos and then piled back into Tammy's car. It was an old, beat up jalopy of a vehicle, but she was the only one that owned her own vehicle so none of us would say a word about it.
My next clue had come when Tammy backed up. She didn't come to a complete stop before throwing the vehicle into drive again and the car's lurch let us know how little the transmission cared for such practice. Again, we said nothing, but by the time we reached the bottom of the driveway, saying nothing was no longer an option. The car had reached a speed of more than 40/kmph and Tammy showed no signs of breaking. We yelled about the oncoming truck and the sharp corner, but she ignored us.
I closed my eyes; I had accepted my fate. A moment passed, but it felt like an eternity. I reopened my eyes and I was sitting in the driver's seat. I looked at the rest of the car and I was driving by myself. Things began to make sense to me. It had been over a month since I had been released from the hospital. Tammy, Natasha, and Noel hadn't made it. I was alone.
The sound of the oncoming truck's horn jarred me back to reality. Slamming on the breaks I left black skid marks on the pavement for 5 meters and the truck whizzed by the nose of my parent's car by mere centimetres. Did I want to die? Did I want to rejoin my friends? Would I really compound the heartache that people were already feeling from the loss of three teens? The short answer was yes, I did want to end the pain I felt. The long answer is no, I could never do something like Tammy had. When I looked back there had been plenty of warning signs. When she talked about taking a month's supply of medicine at once. When she had shown up to school with those cuts on her arm. When she talked about sometimes feeling like nobody cared about her. How could I have guessed that she would cut her own brake lines? How could I have anticipated that she would pick up her three best friends before her suicide run? Maybe the answer is that I wasn't as good of a friend as I had thought.