Last Shown Affection : A Car Ride Felt White

A drop of perspiration made a slow trek down my face as I carefully placed one foot in front of the other, each step taken with a precision a ballerina would envy. The scorching sun was directly behind me, its rays beaming directly through my shirt, making my venture more difficult than it usually was. I hadn’t had luck on my side so far today. The sky was bare of clouds, and no grain bin was tall enough to shade me from the sun. I wore my lucky red shirt specifically for this day. Yeah – I have a lucky shirt, what’re you laughing at? My usual crowd would consist of solely my brother, but today I had two sets of eyes on me. My brother’s, gazing up at me with his permanent look of wonder, and Sarah Crocker’s, her smirk extending beyond her lips

It felt as if time didn't pass. Even though the pavement was moving by at a steady rate it didn't feel like we were getting anywhere. The man who was an idol to me may be gone, taken, ripped away from me. He was basically that father that did not have. As we drove I thought of the times we had together. Like when I was 9 and we build a 50 foot hot-wheels track that had it all. Twists, turns, loops and jumps. The bright orange track had all the possibilities in the world. We would modify the little toy cars so that they went too fast for our own good. Painting, building and making those little 3 inch cars brought me more enjoyment than I could handle.

The day had come. I acted like I didn’t know. It was a cold and dark ride, they drove an unfamiliar way. It toke forever at least it felt that way. I almost fell asleep, but my dad kept me awake.

It was the first day of summer, my friends and I were headed to Great America. From the cloudless sky, the sun seemed to boil the air around us, in the muggy car with the air conditioning on full blast. The radio was turned on at almost full volume, the noise came out in static and it would sometimes cut out. My blue baseball hat knocked on the window as I anxiously stare out of it, anticipating our arrival.  Finally, out in the distance I could see the very top of the newest ride, peaking over the trees. It’s vibrant orange color made it stand out over everything else. As sweat started to drip down my forehead and the air around me was getting thicker, I saw the exit, which meant we were only moments away.. We took a sharp turn to the right, causing everything in the car to slide, but

lived with her father and other family relatives, she behaved like her dogs for 3 years. After her

It took a couple days for me to notice, but she couldn't go up and down the stairs by herself, But most of all her character changed she went from a joyful playful dog Into a lazy one, She was dog-tired all thee time. She spent her days laying in her bed not playing with me.

First it started off by not paying attention to her. She got into some mushrooms that are poisonous to dogs. Then we took her inside the house and, she looked fine, although we didn’t know what she has been doing while we have been eating dinner.

“I cannot find my yoga mat,” my mom announced, frantically rummaging through the boxes of junk in our garage. There was no telling what was in there! Basketballs, lawn equipment, sidewalk chalk, bikes and more were strewn across the floor. Someone could easily twist an ankle in there.

Back when I was little and naive I believed that the world was my playground. I believed that I was an untouchable force that couldn’t be broken. Fear wasn’t in my vocabulary. I treated every day as a way to make the world glow. When others thought they had nothing to smile for I showed them that life is an adventure that’s waiting to be traveled. As my fourth grade year rolled around, Miss Bridagam 's classroom was

It was always a long, tedious drive back to my house in the heart of downtown from my parent’s cozy, but lonely home just a half hour away, smack dab in the middle of no man’s land. That day it felt much longer. The unusual thing about that particular drive home was that there wasn’t a whole lot of traffic. There weren’t any accidents. No trains to put a sudden halt in my route home. There was nothing that could make my drive that day any more boring than it already was. There was nothing out of the ordinary. I wasn’t at all prepared for what was about to happen next.

With my headphones positioned uncomfortably in my ears, I sat slumped against my headboard. The inelegant curving of the wood dug into my shoulders, I didn 't pay attention to the discomfort of the plastic pressing into my ears or the misshapen wood digging into my skin as my mind trailed off with a stream of words that filled cracks and gaps like water in a dry river bed. The urge to write was tugging at the edges of my mind, but despondency precluded me from putting pen to paper. Eighteen years of memories were painting pictures in my head, but the right words eluded me.

The rain pitter-pattered gently against the car window as we drove. The way back was dreadful, the quietness seemed surreal, no one had made a single noise, not even a whimper. We were all caught up

On a chilly October evening around 8 o’clock a sole road leads me from Bowlus to Royalton. My eyes burn from the wind blowing into them all evening, my body aches from sitting in a single spot for hours, unable to make a move, not seeing a thing. As dusk sets, the chilled air pricks my pale skin with an abundance of goosebumps. The heat blasts through the vents to prevent the windows from frosting over and brings warmth to my skin. The car has no insurance yet, so my parents were hesitant to let me drive it. After pleading to them that I was responsible and old enough, the moment finally came. They said multiple times that I needed to be extra careful, but eventually they handed me the keys. The radio echoes the lyrics May We All through the car while I hum along. The rumbling of my stomach silences the thumping of the bass, since the last time I ate had been around lunch. The sky was somber and the moon was hidden behind the jet-black clouds. The headlights of the car reflects off the tar like a spotlight lighting up an empty stage. Warm air glides across my relaxed hand on the steering wheel. Corn and bean fields, soon to be harvested, surround the road that takes me home. It's a serene night. I am about five minutes away from home and just about to go around one of the only curves that I drive on every day, so I slow my normal 65 to about a 60, and prepare for the turn.

That night I opened up the wordpad program on my Mother’s old computer, and got to writing. The first thing I had ever written and enjoyed was a awful and generic FanFiction about my favorite book series at the time “Maximum Ride”. I was there for hours, and watched the sun peek over the trees of my backyard, as I wrote until I couldn't anymore. I saved it without

I absolutely loved long car rides; it was the perfect excuse to let idle thoughts roam and to isolate myself from the world. I only observed the outside through the window of the family van, my personal theater. The images that flashed hastily before the window was like a film strip; only revealing the pictures of the scenes for only a moment. This car ride was especially exquisite, for the hours it took to reach our destination allowed my imagination to mingle with the fleeting world which were only separated by a window.