After a long debate with my dad, he finally agreed to let me drive to Ateneo but with the condition that we had to leave the house at five in the morning. I did not think he would have let me though, at this point early on, when I have only been going to driving school for about two weeks. He loves his car a lot, so much so that no one else gets to drive it, with only me as the first exception. I can recall how much anxiety I saw in his eyes, as he sat there on the passenger seat while I was manning the car.
My dad, being the conservative and old-fashioned person that he is, has all of his cars with manual transmissions. And a newbie like me that is tasked to drive a manual transmission car is definitely no piece of cake. Along the way, every time I made a mistake, Dad would be shouting as he corrected my mistake, and his yelling was by no means helping me to calm down and focus on the road. What made the driving all the more hard was that he was confusing me. Whenever I was driving slowly, he would tell me to speed up; however, when I was already speeding up, he would then tell me to slow down. I was getting really annoyed and the confusion only led me to my almost near death experience.
The sun was still nowhere in sight as I was heading down the streets near UST. The road was becoming more uneven, as if I were driving on rocks, so I took some precaution and started to slow down as I was about to take a left turn. And in a blink of an eye, a fast moving truck came rushing in the same direction. And Dad, with a very quick reaction, suddenly grabbed the steering wheel and turned it to avoid getting hit. I sat there frozen as I tried to comprehend