Voices Literary Magazine Edition 1 Voices Literary Magazine - Edition 2 | Page 11

absence of color. In this case it was absence of feeling. The first to step out of the car was my father. I think he was going to use the little knowledge he knew about cars to identify the problem. He went outside, lifted the bonnet, and checked the engine. My mom joined my father. I just stayed inside the car, trying to process the sentence my mother had just said. I heard my father say in his deep calm voice, “Yep, it’s broken.”

At that moment something in my sarcastic (40%) brain clicked. It started to function and made the rest of my brain work as well. I knew it wasn’t the time to say such a thing but I couldn’t help it, the sentence just slipped through my lips, “Really? I thought the engine was just fine.” My dad gave me one of his looks, meaning “Stop fooling around, this is serious,” and he was right. Actually, I must confess that all of my father's looks are the same so my brain just gives them a meaning depending on the situation.

I stepped out of the broken car (now with no air conditioning). With a lot of struggle between me and my evil seatbelt, I got out of the car and a gush of hot air hit me. Excuse me, did I say hot? I meant of gush of blazing, burning, boiling hot air. I’m the only person on Earth to experience solar wind. Just then I thought it was actually cold inside the car, and I understood why so many animals had died in this treacherous desert. My parents took their mobile phones and tried calling someone but there was no signal. What a lucky day I was having and I hadn’t broken any mirrors yet. We were stuck on a deserted road in the middle of a desert where every grain of sand was trying to end my life . So sad, yes, but at that point I was frightened, incredibly horrified. I was (and still am) easily scared, so imagine me in a situation when I should actually be terrified. Exactly, my pants were wet and I was