Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

Decent Essays

My hands knuckles were turning white as I gripped the steering wheel. I tried to calm my breathing a little bit because I swear I was on the verge of hyperventilating.
“Well, if you don’t pass your drivers test you’ll have to walk to work tomorrow,” instead of helping lighten the mood, my dad made it worse by pissing me off.
“Well, then I guess I just won’t show up at work.”
“Well then I guess you won’t have to take your driver 's test because I won’t let you drive,” he instantly snapped back into his normal sturn self. I always hated how he thought he could make snide remarks to me, but the second I tried to banter back, he would switch back into strict dad mode.
We pulled up to the DMV and my grip on the steering wheel grew even tighter. We went inside and registered. The lady at the desk shot me a smile, but in her eyes I could tell that she secretly hoped that I would fail
I bet she enjoys when kids fail. She probably gets happy when kids come in with tears in their eyes because they won’t be able to do donuts in the parking lot after school.
“ Okay, here is a checklist to go over. Go sit in your car and wait for the driving instructor,” she sounded like she was reading straight from a index card.
I got in my car and slumped over in my seat. “Why am I this nervous? This won’t even be hard. Just drive slow and you’ll be okay. Don’t hit the brakes to hard and look over your shoulder.” Any person walking by probably thought I was strange for talking to myself, but it

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