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Driving back from a football game the christian radio station is playing as I’m looking out of the window in the passenger seat of the car. It’s late and very dark as we are out in the middle of nowhere, but the pitch black fields are intriguing me. The station switches all of a sudden, drawing my attention back. “Hey, I liked that song” I say. I don’t hear a reply. Nothing but silence. I can’t stop repeating the question in my head. Does he believe in god? Does he really truly believe? Little do I know, this isn’t something I will find out until later in my life.

He’s drunk, so very drunk. This isn’t unusual though, not at all. I know something isn’t right because I can feel it in my gut. The feeling is so deep and the silence is intimidating. I begged him to let me drive before we left and I knew it, I just knew it. We go from the speed limit to 15 mph over the limit. “Okay, everything is okay” I think to myself, but I know I’m lying. I’m letting him do his thing. If I don’t say anything chances are he will stop what he’s doing. I start bracing myself as we are heading straight towards a line of cones placed on the road in a zigzagged form leading into another lane, now going 90 mph. I grip the door handle and turn my head towards the window shutting my eyes as tightly as humanly possible because I’m scared and I can’t bear to watch. I know if we wreck, we will be severely injured, if not, dead.

The feeling in my stomach is so intense I can’t help but scream. “Stoooooop!” I tried to play cool as long as possible, but now I think I’m going to die. Thump, Thump, Thump. We hit a few cones and the car starts to screech from him pressing on the brakes. Since we are still going so fast, the back end of the car skids from side to side and it looks as if he might lose control of the wheel. At this point, I’m shutting my eyes again.

Finally, the car slows down, thank the heavens! I look over at him just to find an amused look on his face. “Your dumb” he says laughing. He’s actually pissed. “You’re fine, You are not going to die, I’m driving” he states arrogantly. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, that scared me!” I’m only apologizing to keep him calm, or otherwise myself alive. I still have 20 minutes left in the car with this maniac until we reach home and anything can happen. I’m scared, but I try not to show it because who knows, maybe he will try to kill us and honestly I’m not sure if what just happened wasn’t a half attempt.