Drive To Adulthood
by Emily Dyer

“Don’t worry; I do this all the time,” I tell my friend Katy as we’re standing in my driveway looking at my mother’s car.

As I walk toward the silver automobile, with the keys gripped in my hand, my audacity and arrogance grow with each step. I feel as if I deserve applause for my brazen attitude and confidence. Reaching for the door, I grip my fingers around the metal and pull. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I can’t hide the smirk peeking through my intended serious expression. I look down, open my hand searching for the correct key, insert it into the ignition, and then turn.

A new blood runs through my veins, a blood of maturity and adulthood giving me more pleasure than any other feeling ever experienced. The hum of the motor calls, saying, “You’re in control; tell me what to do.”  I turn to Katy, standing where I left her. I have a slight feeling of sympathy because she does not understand the ecstasy of the moment I’m experiencing.

I push the brake, then move my hand to click the gearshift moving from park to drive. My foot caresses the accelerator; making my heartbeat faster. I urge my foot forward more. I am at the peak of excitement. Suddenly, I hear a noise of crashing and breaking metal in front of the car. I hit something, and I hit it hard. I stop the car abruptly. My body sinks, as my true age re-enters my veins and the rush I had experienced drains, along with my confidence. I look  around for a sign to what has happened. Katy has her hand covering her mouth in shock. I spot my parents furiously glaring at me from a previously unnoticed window from the house.

I am in trouble. But for a few short seconds, I was in heaven.