You Have One Wish (On Hold)

Chapter Two

I pull my poor, rough backpack off the dirty tile floor and place it on top of the desk. Here I am, finally in my first year of college, at the local community college nothing special really, and I'm still using the backpack from my first year of middle school.

I pull my gray zip-up jacket off the back of my chair. It was two times too big, not surprising though considering it's one of the many, many hand-me-downs from one of my older siblings. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and put my headphones in. Too embarrassed to pull out my iPod Classic out of my pocket, instead of a fancy smartphone, I fumble around looking for the play button. Once the music starts playing, I put my head down and quickly make my way out of the classroom.

This isn't necessarily the biggest campus, but all the parking lots fill up quickly. I had to park on the opposite side of campus compared to where my class was. I guess I'm not the only one in this town desperate to find any excuse to get out of this desert of a town.

A light drizzle was starting to happen, which caused me to quicken my pace. My feet were starting to hurt from the concrete. These shoes didn't really have any padding in them; I might as well have been walking barefoot. Soon my old pick-up truck came into view. I hated this truck. It belonged to my grandfather, but when my oldest sister, Cleo, turned sixteen my grandfather gave it to her. Then once my oldest brother, Phil, turned sixteen my parents gave it to him. Phil likes to work on trucks, so he managed to fix it up a little before it was handed down to my other brother, Jay. Let's just say Phil's work on the truck was pointless with Jay. By the time it got passed down to me, I'm pretty sure it was worse off than when Cleo had gotten it.

Instead of having the luxury of unlocking the car as I walk up to it, I had to fumble with the key with the lock, to force it open. The poor door creaks as it opens, almost as if it wishes to fall off. Don't worry door, I wish for you to fall off too. Maybe then I can convince my parents to let me get a new car. I slam the door shut, and it takes three tries for the truck to come to life. I turn on the lights, hoping the lights are still working, and turn on my windshield wipers. I lean back in my seat, hoping to waste a little bit of time. There are some days I dread going home, simply because I just want to be by myself. I let one more song play, before finally pulling out of the parking lot.

It's about a 35-minute drive from school to home and it's a rough 35 minutes. The parts of the drive that include actual paved roads are filled with multiple potholes, and once I get closer to home it becomes dirt roads. Since it's raining, that means the roads will splash mud on the truck. Not that I mind, but I will mind it once I get home and my family tells me I should take better care of the truck by washing it. They seem to completely forget that when Jay was driving it, he caused two parts to be replaced.

I turn my turn signal on to let others know I'm pulling off onto the dirt road part of my journey. It's kind of pointless though. There's literally no one around, there hardly ever is. About a mile down the road, I apparently hit something, because I almost lost control of the truck. It takes me a few feet to finally gain control of the truck. Once I do, I pull off the road. I put the truck in park and turn off the ignition. I rest my head on the steering wheel to catch my breath. Once I composed myself, I decided to inspect the truck. I really hope that nothing too serious happened, just enough to convince my parents I needed a new car. If the damage was too much, I would have to walk home. Then my dad would simply just drive me back here, with Phil to drive my truck back home. On top of that, I would be lectured the entire way about being a more careful driver.

Getting out of the truck, I pull the hood of my jacket over my head. I walk around the truck inspecting every inch of it, looking for any excuse for damage. After walking around the truck twice, I decided that there was nothing there. Maybe I imagined the whole thing. I really hope not, I think that would convince me that my family was right, and I really am crazy. I look back at the dirt road in the direction I had come from. It looked normal. There didn't seem to be anything out of place. I sigh, thinking how this was a waste of time, but still happy that this stalls me getting home by a few minutes.

Just as I'm about to get back in my truck, something shiny catches the corner of my eye. I look back down the road and saw something laying on the side of the road. Having nothing better to do, and being curious, I decide to waste some more time to walk back down the road to inspect the shiny object.

When I finally made it to the shiny object, I stood there for a second trying to figure out what it was. I decided that it looked like a gravy boat. I bent down to pick up the object. It was absolutely coated in dirt. I brushed off what I could, to get a better look at it. For some reason, I found it captivating. A crackle of thunder made its way across the sky, reminding me of the storm, that seems to be getting worse by the second. I stood up, deciding to take the object with me, and ran back towards my car. Once I'm back in my truck, I inspect the object one last time. I don't know why, but it made me smile. For some reason, it brought a little bit of happiness for me. I put the gravy boat in my backpack and continue my ride home.

One final turn and I'm finally pulling into my driveway. I park my truck in its normal spot. We have a small stretch of woods along the right side of the driveway and I park in the shade that the trees normally provide. My family says it's so that I can keep it from overheating, but I'm pretty sure they just want the better spots for themselves. Whatever though, the joke's on them. One of these days, a stormy one like today, will cause a branch to fall onto this death trap I call a truck, and it'll force them to get me a new car.

It's days like today though that upset me how far away I have to park away from the door. I sigh and lean my head against the back of my seat. I reach over to grab my bag, and a loud ringing sound came from my bag. Scared that I already broke the gravy boat, I open my backpack to inspect the new, well new to me, gravy boat. I put my item back in my backpack. There are practically no secrets, no private life in this household. Everything belongs to everybody. I want something to be mine, all mine. Even if it is some random, old gravy boat I found on the side of the road.

As I open the truck door, I hug my backpack, partially to shield it from the rain, but mostly to shield it from my family, as I run up to the house.