PROMPTS USED: Two
NO. OF ARTWORKS: One
TEAM NAME USAGE: Yes
THE REASON I GAVE UP ON DRIVING
Look, it was just meant to be a nice drive down the street. I had freshly learnt to run a car, it was summer, there was a nice breeze going… I had all the reasons to take my sister Trinity for a little trip. Well, as they always do, things got WAY more complicated, and that’s how we ended up in prison. Period.
Here’s what happened, see- we were halfway down the road, singing weird songs and laughing and everything. Well, then a curb decided to just get in our way and- this may sound unrealistic but it happened- we went skyrocketing through the air down the road. Trinity was screaming her lungs out, whereas I was valiantly… okay, I was screaming my lungs out too.
And then my car decided to just fall on a… something. I promise, I had absolutely no hand in that. Fortunately the car, deciding to be heroic at that time, had landed on all fours. We collapsed out, gasping, and then looking at each other and bursting out laughing. But then the poor creature we had landed on gave a squeal, interrupting us, and people slowly began filing out of their houses. Many yelled and rushed to tend to the creature, which we realised was a street dog, whereas some gave us disgusted looks and rushed back in.
“Cath, what…” Trinity began, but she didn’t complete her sentence. We stared at each other in silence, and the next thing we knew, there were two people dressed like police officers grabbing our arms and pushing us into a van. When we got to the police station, we were pushed into a room where we were asked our names and questions by some guy, like our parents’ names and what we had been doing.
“So, Catherine and Trinity Miller, I’m sorry to say that you two are going to be in lockup for a while,” said the guy after he had finished questioning us. I stared at Trinity as her face drained of colour. In lockup? For landing on a dog?
Okay, we kind of deserved it. And that, my friends, is how my sister and I ended up in prison.
So surely there must be a good news, right? I mean, why would I sound so casual about it if I were in prison and utterly depressed? Well, you’re right there, because there is a good news- the next day, we were left out.
You see, when we were put into our cell, which was rather spacious for one, Trinity took one look around and breathed, “Well, this is a nice change of scenery.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Trinity, it’s a prison cell.”
“I was trying to be sarcastic.”
“No use in trying to cheer me up if it ain’t going to happen, is there?”
So we just stared at each other, stared until it almost felt like a staring competition. I mean, it felt so much like one that when Trinity blinked, I resisted the urge to pump my fist in the air and say “Ha! I win!”
But it turned out that I could be cheered up, because when they let us leave the next morning, my scowl faded into an excessively flamboyant expression. After a little van ride, we were led to the place where our car had been the day before. I ran my hand over it absent-mindedly as the police van drove off, and eyed Trinity. “Wow,” I murmured. What a mess we’d gotten ourselves into.
There were many deeper downsides to this story, such as what mum and dad would be thinking, but I tried to ignore the thought and leave the future to the future. I slipped into the driver’s seat and Trinity got in next to me, and I fired the cranky old engine and we started the road. It was almost a pleasant ride, with the little yellow flowers dusting the meadows on the way and a breeze caressing our hair through the open windows.
And then a curb decided to just get in our way and- this may sound unrealistic but it happened- we went skyrocketing through the air and landed on (of all things) a humongous trampoline that had decided to just be on the sidewalk. The thing that happened next seems too wild to be real (but it happened, I tell you)- our car went flying up and stubbornly nestled in the crook of a tree as though it were a bird.
And that, my friends, is how my sister and I ended up on a tree.
But I don’t remember getting off the tree, and I can’t seem to make out how our car is still in perfectly good shape. And how my parents don’t ask me anything about where I’d been, or how Trinity doesn’t seem to remember a thing about it.
Oh, good lord… please don’t tell me it all a dream.