Personal Reflective Essay: Behind The Wheel

I was so tired, even attempting to keep my eyes open was a struggle. My whole body was achy after a hard day’s of school work, constantly staring at a computer screen and typing away, just to finish an essay. My pale white hands, frozen by the air conditioning blasting on high, were holding on to the steering wheel like a person gripping the edge of a cliff, hoping not to fall into a dark abyss. My brain wanted to give in, to remain in the sleep that I kept dangerously drifting in and out of. I took a look outside, the road looking meek. The rows if brush hoars any objects spattered off the road by vehicles in the August sun. It felt like I was going around in a circle, my tires skating around the bends and turns of the road. I felt maybe I should slow down so I do not lose
control of the wheel. I glanced at the clock as it lit up my face in a blue kind of color, it read 10:01 pm. My eyes fixed on the yellow lines on the road to focus on my lane. As I kept driving, my eyelids felt heavier and heavier. My outdated brown Ford was skidding over the road, my wheels were all independent, each having a mind of its own. When you get inside of the truck, you enter a whole different place than the outside world. Most of the time the passenger side is overflowing with trash, mostly empty pop bottles and cans. It gets to the point where if you open the door to get in or out of the truck, cans and bottles are destined to fall out. You can not even see the floorboards. I eventually shuffled to reach my radio, my freezing hands hitting the on button. A soothing love song came on, a woman with a calming voice. I took another yawn, while these hipster glasses kept turning less clear by the minute. I removed them from my head and blew my breath to clear the lens. I realized the lenses weren’t the problem, my lack of sleep was. I then heard a loud thud toward the front of me. Prior to my car stopping the woman’s voice was pleasing, now it had turned into a sudden shrill noise. I reached for the handle and jumped out the truck. An array of silver and gummy bear patterned duct tape was applied to the fender of the truck. I waddled to the front of the car and hoisted up the hefty fender. I ripped off a foot long piece of duct tape and taped part of the fender back together. Continuting this process until the fender was temporarily secured and in place. I hobbled to the driver’s side door of the car and opened it, the ford emblem glistening on the front in the moonlight “Oh my God”, I exclaimed to myself in accidental surprise. I had forgotten that my step-mom was waiting in the truck. When I opened the door a flood of boops, bops, and beeps greeted me. The roar of the radio when I got back in the car was enough to scare anyone. I turned the truck back on and shifted to drive. I let my foot off of the brake pedal on the left. As I continued driving I felt wrong. Everything was quiet, it was an eerie feeling. I was too tired to care at that point though. The howling winds had ceased and the only noise that got to my ear drums was the beat of the fast paced electro pop blaring out of the radio.
I snap back to reality and notice that my speedometer read 30 mph. I was in a 20 mph zone. I slam on the brakes to slow down. Behind me, a driver lays on his horn to tell me how irresponsible my last decision was. I reach for the radio and turn the tuner dial until I find something upbeat and groovy. As I remove my hand, I begin to hit on the steering wheel like a drum. The steering wheel is black and coverless. It sounds good when I hit it. It is also keeping me awake at the moment. My step mom sat next to me in the passenger’s seat messing around with her phone. She never pays attention to me when I’m driving. I see a curb on the next right turn I have to take. After running over the curb, my step mom glances up to make sure I did not hit anyone. When realizing that everything is fine, she goes back to Facebook on her phone. The darkness of night was exhausting. My eyes fluttered in the beams of the yellow street lights. In a couple of blocks, I make another right turn. Then a left turn into my driveway. I turn off the engine and let out a sigh of relief. I reach for my door handle and pull, eager to go to my bed. My legs wobble underneath me as I stumble out of the truck. I am finally
home.