I am currently 30 years old. My Grandmother, who lives in Idaho, invited me to come see her. I am not employed and do not have a GED. I am bored and live with my parents. I do have a drivers license, but I don’t drive. I accepted my Grandmother’s offer. She is 77.

One my third day visiting her, she called me to come up to the kitchen. She was inviting to take me out to dinner, to a steak restaurant. I was so hungry and nodded.

"Say, since you’re taking me to dinner- why not let me drive us to the restaurant?" I asked. My Grandmother looked concerned.

"Daniel, your parents told me that you don’t drive and are nervous behind the wheel. I think I’d better drive."

"Oh what! So now you don’t love me?" I looked at her with a very upset glance. And even put a hand on my hip. My Grandmother’s face turned to guilt.

"Of course I love you!" She pleaded, looking sullen.

"Then let me drive! Otherwise I won’t come and see you anymore. And you always tell me how lonely you get." I started making my way back downstairs to my bedroom.

"Okay. You can drive. But be careful."

These last words annoyed me. After all, I was a 30 year-old man. People start driving when they’re 16. When we got into the car, I buckled my seat belt and started the engine. As I backed out of the driveway, I felt confident. I was driving, and Grandma was letting me.

"Well you’re doing okay." My Grandmother was impressed. I turned the corner and made sure to have my signal on. And then it happened. As I was driving towards the freeway, I had the urge that comes over me sometimes when I am walking or riding my bike. I have the urge to squint my eyes shut really hard, just to see what happens. It’s almost like a uncontrolled twitch. I began sweating to fight the urge but I couldn’t. I closed my eyelids as hard as I could, and of course now I was driving and not able to see. I kept them closed for a good 10 seconds. Then my Grandmother screamed. As I twitched and made a "uhhh" sound, that I often make when Im done clasping my eyes down, I saw what my Grandmother was screaming at. We had made the freeway, and the car had swerved and we were in the middle of rushing traffic. As car horns blared, I saw it. The semi-truck.

There was a loud SMASH sound and our car was crashed into by the truck. Glass flew everywhere, and through my blurred vision I saw my Grandmother’s face look horrified as glass hit her face, and blood began oozing from her neck. I myself felt strong pressure in my lower half and realized I couldn’t move. Then it all went black. I awoke to sirens and saw in the distance firetrucks and a few cop cars coming my way. I also heard commotion- bystanders looking in. Thank God I was alive. I looked to my right to see if my Grandmother was okay, but I stopped stone cold. There lay my Grandmother- dead. Her lifeless body looked at me. Her eyes were glazed open, like a dead fish. I could smell the blood from her neck and also her ripped open stomach- pieces of glass and air bag were in it. I couldn’t believe that my little twitch attack had caused my Grandmother to die. Perhaps, I thought, this is why my parents never wanted me to learn to drive. They knew I had twitched a lot.

Because my health insurance covered me, I was okay. No major injuries. The semi-truck man was very upset with me, as he lost a lot of money in the damages to his vehicle. My Dad came screaming into the hospital and yelled at me "You Killed my Mother! You fucking bastard!" He was crying and hurt. I was not invited to the funeral services and my parents kicked me out of the house. I now live with a friend up north. This incident happened well over 2 months ago but I can still feel the accident, still see my Grandmother’s dead face looking at me- still hear the chilling anger from my father. How do I get over this? Please only answer if you can help.

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1. Dash / between seats area
2. Behind the wheel
3. White lights/ new light covers

*sorry for any typos! I’m writing this on my phone. Thanks again for any info!

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The troubles of the past year finally got to me. I felt like I was just watching my horrible life go down the drain as a helpless spectator. I eventually resorted to sitting in my room for hours a day, not even moving. It was easy to just sit, withdraw into myself and let the world go by. I was tired of being that helpless spectator, and I decided that it was time to do something about it. I never was the type to do anything crazy, but I knew I had to do something or else things would only get worse. I came out to the car that I had hidden in the garage. It was a blue 1995 Mazda Protege that had sat in our driveway for months. Someone had abandoned it there. I reported it to the cops, of course, so they tracked the person down. When they found him, he said he couldn’t care less what happened to the car, so him and I got to an agreement, and we got the title in my name. My parents thought the police had hauled it off, but in reality, I had just brushed aside the junk in the garage and pushed it in, as it was parked in neutral, and then covered it up with the junk. Problem was, there were no keys. I got the coat hanger from the shelf, knocked all the junk off the car, then stuck it in the window. I had tried this numerous times, but never managed to get it. This time I had to. I kicked my duffel bag aside so I had more room, and finally, I felt the button with the edge of the coat hanger. My palms were sweat soaked, and my heart raced with the excitement. I shoved the coat hanger down, and I heard the beautiful sound of all four locks opening in unison. I slowly yanked the hanger out of the window and reached for the door handle, almost afraid to touch it. I took a deep breath and pulled. The door slid open on creaky hinges and I got in. The seat was soft and plush compared to Dad’s rickety old truck. I glanced around, taking in everything. There wasn’t much stuff in the car save for a few CDs. I got out again, making sure the door wasn’t locked, and popped the hood. I opened the drawer of my cabinet and retrieved the ownership information on the car, then stuffed it inside. I also found a few wires. I raised the hood and hotwired it. It cranked a few times, and the engine sputtered to life. I kept it running using the throttle until it warmed up, then it stayed running by itself. I lifted the door to the garage and watched in horror as Dad pulled into the driveway. My eyes widened in terror, and I panicked and threw the duffel bag into the car. I jammed it into first and pressed the gas, being careful not to pop the clutch. The car lurched into motion as Dad ran up to it, screaming. He stood in front of me as I accelerated with a look of intense anger on his face. He wasn’t moving. I stepped on the gas, and he jumped out of the way as the car approached. The mirror clipped him, and he screamed in rage. The engine roared and the tires squealed as I slid out of the driveway and onto the road.

How do you like this piece of my story? is a post from: Wet Okole Hawaii

The removal truck pulled up outside of Shontelle’s old flat. The flat itself was very small, vandalized and grotty, this was one of the reasons Shontelle’s foster mum had decided to move. Other reasons included – Shontelle was getting bullied, there was no decent work in the area and her foster mum had been accepted for a new job in Ohio.
“Are you sure you don’t want to say goodbye to anybody in your class?” asked Shontelle’s foster mum, Berry.
“No.” replied Shontelle, before climbing into the back seat of their car.
Berry sighed, “Ok you know where these are going? We’ll follow behind.”
“Yes ma’am.” puffed the removal worker.
Berry shut the car door and started the engine.
“Look, Shontelle, I’m trying my best.”
“Thats what you always say Berry! I just want to have a normal life for once.” Debated Shontelle whilst turning to the side window.
“Its not my fault you got into that fight, and smashed Old Man Jenkins window. Perhaps at school it wasn’t all your fault, thats why were moving. This move doesn’t benefit me apart from a new job.” explained berry sympathetically.
The forgiving sunlight then kissed over the car, and the white florescence of Shontelle’s porcelain skin reflected on to the car roof. Just below her wrist lay an old but unforgettable scar which was one of the many injuries her real parents had cursed her with. With great softness, Berry pulled down Shontelles sleeves to cover the scar.
“I will never, ever do anything like that to you, Berry.”
“I know. But others have.”

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The oneroom guest house would be heated and would keep out wind and rain.

What would you choose?

Lets say you couldn’t afford a hotel?

Your car has a back seat that is very comfortable.

The oneroom guest house has a solid door with a lock.

The cott in the guest house would actually be a single mattress.

Since you would use the guest house your mother would allow you to decorate and paint the inside of the guest house.

For example your mom would allow you to paint the inside of the door and the walls.

Unfortunatley you wouldn’t be able to put windows inside.

Would you be afraid to close the door while you would be inside the one room windowless guest house?

The guest house gets warm and toasty with the little heater on.

This guest house is very small. Its about 40 square feet.

The guest house has no holes or windows in it.

Lets say the guesthouse has a mirror inside?

The area you live in a crappy motel costs 0 per night.

The door on the otuside is aqua blue. The inside of the door is unfinished/unpainted wood. What would you piant on the inside of the door? Colors or mural?

What would designs or colors would you paint on the walls?

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The oneroom guest house would be heated and would keep out wind and rain.

What would you choose?

Lets say you couldn’t afford a hotel?

Your car has a back seat that is very comfortable.

The oneroom guest house has a solid door with a lock.

The cott in the guest house would actually be a single mattress.

Since you would use the guest house your mother would allow you to decorate and paint the inside of the guest house.

For example your mom would allow you to paint the inside of the door and the walls.

Unfortunatley you wouldn’t be able to put windows inside.

Would you be afraid to close the door while you would be inside the one room windowless guest house?

The guest house gets warm and toasty with the little heater on.

This guest house is very small. Its about 40 square feet.

The guest house has no holes or windows in it.

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