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Speeding on Rte. 287

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I shifted into the fourth gear, and the whole world was rushing in front of my eyes. I was going at least 110 mph on Route 287. I had just bought my first real car (a beat up ’93 Honda Civic doesn’t count…), a jet black V10 Chevrolet Corvette. The price of the car was met with three years of saving allowance, and it was definitely worth it.

Click VROOM! I shifted into the fifth gear, the cars on the left side of the road looked like they were going 300 mph. There wasn’t much traffic on my side of the road, so being a crazy seventeen year old and all, I sped up. The opposite cars looked like white lights flying at 170 mph. Everything was great. The wind was in my hair and the engine was maxing out. All I needed now were bright and shiny rims and neon lights. Oh! Oh! Maybe I could buy a…

“WEE WOOOOH WEEEE WOOOOOH” Uh Oh, I thought. I looked at my speedometer. 200 mph?! How could I let this happen? I could have sworn I was going fifty-five. I pulled over to the curb, and stopped. The policeman followed me, stopped, took my license plate code, and went back to his car for five minutes. When he finally confronted me he had long blonde wavy hair. “Whoa!” I said. “Excuse me?” she replied. “I didn’t think that the police had girls in their unit…” “Well sorry to surprise you sir, do you have the slightest chance of how fast you were going?” “Uhh sixty?” “Try 203.”

“Please put your hands on the wheel, “ she said, while writing down some information. “Take out your license and registration,” she said without looking up. I was baffled. “How do I get my papers if my han–“ “DON’T BE A SMART A**! GET YOUR REGISTRATION!” I quickly reached for my glove box. “SLOWLY!” She exclaimed with one hand on her pistol. I gave her my insurance papers, registration, and driving license, and the rest went downhill from there. “I'm gonna need to speak with your parents, kid” “No please don’t, please! I have $100 in my wallet! I can give you up to $700 in my back account, but please don’t tell my parents.” The policewoman raised her eyebrows and wrote something down. “Ok we’re towing your car, and you’re coming with me to the police station,” she said with a smirk on her face. I sighed and got out of my seat. She searched me for weapons and put me in the backseat of her car.
I live right next to police station, so my parents were there in a jiffy. My mom of course was all fussy and asking me so many questions. “Are you ok? What happened? Are you injured? Are you hurt?” My dad of course was like a teenager. “How fast? Did the engine overheat? Is the car ok?” My parents went into a separate room with the officer and came out ten minutes later. They later told me they gave me a free pass because it was my first offense. “Come on, let’s go pick up your car.” We picked up my car and went home. I didn’t eat dinner, so I just went upstairs to sleep. From that day on, I don’t think I ever passed forty mph on a highway. My V10 Chevy was forced to bury its power deep beneath its surface, but there are some nights that I come late from a party, and the streets are empty. I look around for any cops, and then, well, I…kind of…well…you know. ;)



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This article has 3 comments. Post your own!

hgundala said...
Jan. 20, 2011 at 7:04 pm:
well written keep it up
 
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Sashi said...
Jan. 20, 2011 at 6:21 pm:
Very well written! Couple of things caught my attention - the way you described your mom and dads reaction-So typical, the reaction of the driver to the female cop - natural, A dreaming 17 year old - again normal. You seem to have grasped the psyche of your characters very nicely in your writing. Keep it up!
 
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i love bacon said...
Jan. 20, 2011 at 3:38 pm:
that was really good! keep writing!
 
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