Okay, so being towed wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The balded man was completely shocked as I hopped out of my car within ten seconds of being unhooked from his.
I flashed a huge grin in his direction, emphasizing the smugness on my face by raising my eyesbrows and spreading my closed mouth grin across my entire face as much as possible.
I must have really startled the poor man, because he layed his hand over his hairy chest where his heart remained beneath the freckly, hairy skin, and wore the most shocked expression I have ever seen in my life. He looked like he had just witnessed spiderman jumping off a building to save a falling damsel in distress! I could slightly see sweat stains bleeding through his long sleeved shirt, and a tad of perspiration on his forhead. I could smeel it too. Gross!!!
I just gave him a flirty wave using only my fingers, and winked before I hopped right back in my truck, starting the ignition, and sped away before he could say a word about the unusually incounter, or get the chance to write down my license plate number.
I raced home as fast as the broken down truck would allow me to, and in a five minute drive, I was there. The drive would have taken any normal person about twenty minutes, but I was in a hurry. It was already 1:30 am and I was currently grounded with a recently new curfew of 8:30. I, was about to be put on house arrest!
I noticed that none of the lights were on in the house, which was highly unusual, but that aslo meant that I was at least safe untill morning.
One more year! I thought silently to myself. One more year of a curfew, and then I'll make and enforce my own rules. The number eighteen danced across my vision, teasing me, and I let out a melodramatic sigh.
I silently shut off the ignition, and shoved all my new items in the biggest purse I own. The notebook my therapist, Anne, had just given me barely even fit, but I made it work by folding it in half so that the pink side was facing in, and shoved it in the bottom of my big black bag. I also added in some new anti-depressants she had perscribed for me and another small package of tissues I had found in the glove box, and forgotten I even had.
I grabbed my keys and got out of my truck, tossing my them in my purse, which was now slung over my right shoulder. Using my left hand, I accidentally shut the door a bit two loud. The sound echoed off the ground and tree's, and I froze.
I'm dead. I am SO dead. I thought, but nothing happened. No lights flickered on, and no sound came through my parents open window. Nothing. And that usually meant that something wasn't right. My parents were NOT light sleepers, and they never went to bed unless they knew I was safe.
This, was incredibly unlike my parents.
I hesitated before walking up the now dry dirt driveway, and then again before going up the three cement steps that lead to my old, white painted porch covered in dust. I cautiously fished around in my bag for my keys, and realized it was incredibly stupid to have tossed them in when I still had to lock the car and open the front door.
I finally felt the cold, spiky metal jab into my palm as I pulled the set of bronze and silver keys out of my bag. I fumbled with them for a few moments, trying to find my house key after locking the car. This time, I wasn't worried about the short honking noise my car made to notify me that I had successfully locked it, I was just plain concerned. I still glanced through the open window of the front room that belonged to my parents, but nothing changed. The room remained black and eerily silent.
I examined my hand after jamming the right key into the key hole. I now had a slightly bleeding flesh wound, caused by the stupid key that decided to get in the way of my searching hand. I sighed, and shook my injured hand as if I could actually shake away the pain.
Then, I took a deap breath, turned the key, and opened the faded red wooden door. I peered into a dark, gloomy, empty hallway.
