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Speed Kills


I was nineteen. It was 2:33am. I was driving down an empty highway, and I was doing around 150mph in my father’s jeep. Then I saw the blue lights flash behind me; cops. I pulled over, they suspended my driver’s license, and escorted me home.

I’m twenty-one. Since that day, I decided I’d cut off all my friends. I stopped becoming so social. My family don’t even care about me anymore, it seems I’ve disappointed them to the point where they’ve given up, so I don’t talk to them much.

I was nineteen. It was 2:33am. I was doing 150mph. I was making a mistake.

I’m twenty-one, and I still drive my dad’s jeep, he has a new car now. I rarely stay at home anymore, I spend all day driving around alone, smoking, drinking, making no human contact. Anything to keep me away from all the crying and constant barging into my room.

I was nineteen. I saw the blue lights flash behind me. I did not pull over.

I’m twenty-two in a couple of days, but I’m not going to celebrate. Everyone ignores me on my birthday, just like the rest of the year, except they also pretend to be depressed in case I actually want to do something. I don’t mind, I don’t care for them much anyway. I just want to drive around.

I was nineteen. It was 2:33am. I was driving down an empty highway, and I was doing around 150mph in my father’s jeep. Then I saw the blue lights flash behind me; cops. I urged the car to go faster, and just then, one of the front tires exploded. The car flipped a few times and then I woke up in my bed. Imagine my surprise when I found myself and the car completely unscathed.

I’m twenty-two in a few days, and I love to speed, even if they say speed kills.


Credits to:  D.Ashtizadeh

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