Car rides used to be my favorite part of trips, the unknown scenery and endless naps. But now they feel more suffocating than peaceful, like a bird in a cage watching what freedom could be. Scrolling mindlessly through different online forums in an endless pattern; Instagram, snapchat, Twitter, so on so forth.
"Nevada!" My mother screamed from behind the driver's wheel.
They're always loud, my brothers and my parents. Always happy and singing. Enough to make any realistic human being nauseated. I put in my headphones on to listen to literally anything that isn't my family enjoying themselves.
Dead Sarah played in my ear as the trees sped past. A new start would be best for me. After what happened it's hard to imagine myself anything but miserable at this point. But what mother thinks is best is bound to happen.
I open Instagram for the fifth time in the span of an hour hoping to see something new and interesting. The explore page should keep me occupied. Scroll. Scroll. Shes cute. Scroll. Scroll. He's pretty ripped huh? To bad he's got a picture of a fish on his page. And close by too. *like* Scroll. Scroll. Huh he followed me.
YOU ARE READING
What dreams are made of
ChickLitIt's a short story that would make the cheesiest film known to man. 8/10 decent read.
