I had a friend, we'll call him Harold. He was a paraplegic, the result of a motorcycle accident. He had a tendency to "fake seizures", among other things.

One night, after spending some quality time with the white girl, he happened to bump his head. Unbeknownst to me, he hadn't taken his medication for a few days.

Dude seized up as soon as I got in the car. Me, thinking he's just fucking around, doesn't take it serious at all.

Til he goes dead weight and falls onto the gear stick of my car. I was in Drive, and he fell forward and pushed us into Neutral. I pressed the gas pedal a few times before I realized what was going on.

I had to pull his dead weight off the gear, and I finally got us back in Drive.

It was around 4 A M. and I drove through every light, whether it was red or not. In the meantime, I'm frantically trying to call his parents.

They finally answer and tell me to bring him home. I do. They ask about what drugs we had done that night, as they are not ignorant to his ways or mine at the time. He is still passed out in the car. They tell me to drive him to the nearest ER and they will meet me there.

On the way, I pour out an 8 ball...in fear of cops being involved. About 2 minutes later, Harold comes to. I explain what happened, and he tells me to take him back home.

I called his parents, who still hadn't left their house, and they agree that it's the best course of action.

I took him home. Put his chair together, and left him with his parents.

A couple hours later, he called me to come over to talk and make sure I was okay. That was the last time I saw him.

Found out about 6 years later that he died due to kidney failure.