Don't Drive Too Fast | Teen Ink

Don't Drive Too Fast

January 29, 2015
By SaraCattt PLATINUM, Shelton, Washington
SaraCattt PLATINUM, Shelton, Washington
34 articles 0 photos 12 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I am and always will be the optimist. The hoper of far flung hopes, the dreamer of improbable dreams."- The Eleventh Doctor

When I was little, I loved looking out the window when I drove somewhere with my parents. On some days, I would slouch down so all I could see were the trees passing by as we flew along the highway. I would imagine that the trees were running past us rather than thinking we were the ones moving. The clouds, the sun, the moon, the stars. The trees, all revolved around my parent’s Ford Explorer.
So when I see you amble past me in the hallway, ignoring me, that’s what I tend to think about. Am I a tree to you? A cliched girl that is ruptured my the uncontrollable invisibility I am cursed with, a girl that is always forgotten? A measly twig in a forest of oaks and sequoias.
I strode hastily to my locker, blocking out the buzz of speech around me. 42-21-03. I opened my locker, shoveling things into my backpack like I didn’t have fifteen minutes to get to the bus. But I had the longest ride, and I enjoyed sitting in the back because I was left alone to stare out the window, daydreaming about walking trees and talking people. You especially, the talking part. The probability of conversing with you was slim, bleak, and dubious.
That’s why I jumped when you sat down beside me, squishing me to the window.
“Hey.” You blurted boldly, staring at me for a response.
I stuttered out a meager “Hi” before you scrambled into this giant explanation of why you had to seat yourself beside me of all people. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been listening. The light reflecting off of your blue-grey eyes made them look... Viridescent, like the woods in the spring.
You became aware of my stare, and a blush began to spread across my face at an alarming rate. You beamed brightly.
Since that day, you haven’t disregarded me. Since that day, I’ve come to realize that I was never the tree in our wooded-conundrum. You were, and I just never had the guts to stop and notice that you weren’t rushing past me. I’m sorry, I tend to drive a bit fast.

The author's comments:

The first paragraph is actaully true. I had the idea while looking out a window and remembered what a rambunxious creative kid I was, thinking trees could walk.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.