A Taste of Terror

Taylor S

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A Taste of Terror


The scent of musty exhaust gradually filled the air. The white sedan spluttered only for a second or two before starting. Dillon sat in the driver’s seat alone, and he was excited to go to his cousin Jill’s house. They had been close friends ever since they were babies, and that had not changed in sixteen years.


More than he was excited, though, Dillon was a ball of nerves. He had only earned his driver’s license a couple of weeks ago, and he still felt scared to go out on the road alone.


There are so many rules to follow, he thought, and I have to remember every single one, otherwise someone will get seriously hurt!


Dillon felt himself sweating as he tried to remember all the rules he had learned in driver’s ed. Stop before going onto a street. You can turn right on a red light if there’s no traffic on that street. The right of way goes to the person on the left – or was it the right? He began to panic.


Dillon saw his mom walking toward the passenger side. He rolled down the window and gave a superficial smile.


“Are you okay, sweetie?” said his mom, seeing right through him.


“Yeah, I’m good,” Dillon said, “Just a little nervous.”


“Maybe you should wait until you’re calm before you go. You’re going to cause a wreck if you’re too nervous.”


“No, I’m alright. I might get a shake before I go.”


“Alright,” his mom smiled, and Dillon rolled the window up as he drove away.


He came out of the mazy neighborhood into a busy part of the city. He pulled into a drive-thru and bought a chocolate shake, then went toward Jill’s house, which was on the other side of the city. Along the way, he went through several intersections with complex traffic lights. He remained on Elm Street most of the time, since Jill’s neighborhood was thankfully near the same street as his. Ten minutes into the drive, he came across an intersection where he needed to turn left, though it lacked left-turn lights.


If all lights on this street are green, I must wait until all oncoming traffic on the left side is gone, he thought.


Dillon grabbed his shake, took the lid off, and began to chug it, halfheartedly being careful not to spill. He saw his light turn green, and immediately started turning. He did not realize that the drivers on the left side could go too, and they were. Dillon put his cup down just in time to see that he was driving into the side of a red supercar. He felt sheer terror replace any blood in his head. His face was white, and his eyes dilated. He put on the brake instantly, inches from the honking sports car.


Dillon waited in the middle of the intersection, embarrassed, terrified, and relieved. He could imagine how that could’ve turned out. He could imagine someone getting seriously injured, perhaps even a child! He couldn’t, however, imagine living with that regret. As he started off again when it was his turn, he thought, I’ll never drive again as long as I live! A little later, he resolved, No, I will drive again. I’ll just not drink or eat anything while driving as long as I live.


He finally drove into Jill’s neighborhood, still recovering from that near-traumatic experience, yet still looking forward to a fun day with his cousin. He would have to later explain to his parents the milkshake stain on the driver’s seat.