Short Stories

Cars

this is a short story I wrote for one of our classes in school. hope you like this one.

***
When people say car you would probably think of Ferraris, Porsche, maybe even Toyota. For me, when you say car, I think of him.

"Please do the errands I asked you to do." Mom says, standing in the doorway to my room. I smile and nod at her. She smiles back and heads downstairs, leaving me to my drawing and my thoughts. I look at the 3D drawing of a car. Blue, the shade almost like midnight, the wheels silver, the rim the same. The windows are colored in except for the shadowy figure behind the wheel. I sigh. I love watching him behind the wheel, carving up the road and making fast turns. Or rather, he did.

I hide the drawing behind books on my desk and stand. I get ready in ten minutes, and head out to the backyard to get my bike. Because of him, I learned to love cars. But because of him, I don't drive a car either. I pedal fast, letting the wind whip my hair. A sad smile comes on my face when I think about how we not only rode together but biked together. Oh, the fun times we used to have.

I enter the post and send the mail mom asked me to. I go to the grocery store next, getting the small groceries that can fit on the basket on the bike. I pedal down the quiet street and head to the place of green and gray.

The park is big and to include such a quiet place in a vibrant park seems off. I walk slowly to the fenced off park within the park.

I stop and look around.

The playground outside of this fenced area may be quite far but the groups of children running and shouting reaches me.

I look at the hiking paths and see happy couples jogging and running. Some run with dogs, others alone.

I turn back to the small park in front of me. Stones surrounds me, carved in different ways. The gray path seems to mock me, knowing exactly what I feel and what I dread to do.

I step forward and find that one stone. I read the carvings and tears gather in my eyes.

"I'm here." A voice says.

A smile cracks.

I look at my mom who stands beside me now. She hands it to me.

I smile, I cry, I laugh at this funny yet emotional tradition. I place the midnight blue car on the flat surface and count the cars now seen as a collection. Ten of them.

I look at my mom and we share a sad smile.

"You've always loved cars. You even raced them. And though your accident ruined our hopes and dreams of driving, your love for then inspires me still." I whisper.

Mom adds, "Your daughter loves cars like you, honey."

We share a smile.

"Happy Father's Day, dad. Ten years have passed but I still see you in every car we pass. I love you." I end, as a tear drops onto the dead grass.