The Failed Comeback

Simply put, I had not touched the steering wheel of a car since December of 2014 when I made my 2003 Mazda 6 nonexistent. Fortunately, the car was already crumbling and nothing happened to me aside from a mild shock, lots of tears, and a few insults coming from the owner of the Jaguar I hit. However, after that incident I completely lost all faith in my abilities to correctly operate any type of moving vehicle. Given my past experience, I trembled as I entered and sat on the driver’s seat of my boyfriend’s box looking car. I felt the stern and uninviting leather seat and the air conditioner blew ice cold wind sharply against my skin. The scent inside the car was a perfect mixture of expensive cologne and that typical new-car smell. As I extended my feet, I felt the hard touch of both pedals. I contemplated for a few minutes which was the break and which was the gas, and regretted asking my boyfriend for clarification as soon as I saw the alarmed look on his face. With much apprehension, I inserted the key and carefully twisted it until a mild tremor warned me the car had turned on. Worry took over my body and fear my soul. I feared history would repeat itself, except this time on a more expensive car and an already traumatized me.

By implementing deep breaths and sincere prayers, I managed to go out on the highway and begin what seemed to be the greatest odyssey of my life. The sky—crowded with chalky colorless clouds—gave off a foreboding atmosphere. There was no hint of blue, no ray of light. Rain was definitely coming and I just wished my fate wouldn’t be as gloomy. The soaring skyscrapers hovered over me as I made my way through the Financial District. A multitude of cars surrounded me in every direction possible. I felt swallowed by the congested roadway, trapped in an unescapable obstacle. Patience escaped me as I waited, continually switching my feet from the gas pedal to the break, going through faint heart attacks every time I found myself too close to another vehicle. When traffic finally started to move once again, I discovered I would have to switch lanes in order to arrive at my destination. My driving skills were anything but daring and as a result I was not able to invade my neighboring lane. The other cars were impatient and kept honking loudly at my lack of experience, confirming the typical characteristics I had previously heard about drivers in New York. At that moment, I immediately stopped the car, forced my boyfriend to switch seats with me and calmly told him my trial would resume on another day.