I hate going to the DMV.
I hate all the reminders of the fact that I’m not trusted to drive. The DMV is the biggest reminder along with my classmates honking and waving as they speed by me on my trek home each day.
At the DMV I sit and watch the little fifteen year olds and the little ninety year olds get or renew their licenses. It makes me wonder when my completely capable self will get mine.
Then it happens.
My pulse quickens and I am instantly sweating. I hear so much noice it becomes silent and I taste metal and my heart stops and then my mind stops and then I’m stuck inside my brain that won’t work right and my body that won’t move at all.
And then, so painfully, I wake up.
Everyone is staring.
I hear the sirens coming for me and I’m crying inside and stoic on the outside.
The fifteen year olds and the ninety year olds stare and wonder what is wrong with me. I felt envy and they feel pity.
“What is wrong with that incapable girl?”
And I ask the same question.
And I get no answers.
I hate the DMV.
I hate all the reminders of the fact that I’m not trusted to drive. The DMV is the biggest reminder along with my classmates honking and waving as they speed by me on my trek home each day.
At the DMV I sit and watch the little fifteen year olds and the little ninety year olds get or renew their licenses. It makes me wonder when my completely capable self will get mine.
Then it happens.
My pulse quickens and I am instantly sweating. I hear so much noice it becomes silent and I taste metal and my heart stops and then my mind stops and then I’m stuck inside my brain that won’t work right and my body that won’t move at all.
And then, so painfully, I wake up.
Everyone is staring.
I hear the sirens coming for me and I’m crying inside and stoic on the outside.
The fifteen year olds and the ninety year olds stare and wonder what is wrong with me. I felt envy and they feel pity.
“What is wrong with that incapable girl?”
And I ask the same question.
And I get no answers.
I hate the DMV.
No comments:
Post a Comment