When I was 19 me and my roommate got drunk and if I say drunk I mean REALLY DAMN drunk. The alcohol definitely has influenced me BUT I recognize that this is still my fault. So we walked back home drunk as fuck until we arrived at a closed level crossing (We lived in a rural area. Back in the 70s you could get jobs there.) While we were standing in front of the level crossing I suddenly thought about how funny it was if I pushed him in front of the arriving train. To make it short he lost both of his legs. He was so drunk he didn't remember a thing and the train driver said he saw him jumping on the tracks. I never confessed to anyone until now but it still haunts me.