Driving to Nowhere

One sunny afternoon, I get bored of sitting at home and being lazy and instead decide to take a drive and go somewhere I’ve never been before. No satnav, no Google Maps, just get in the car and drive. Instead of taking a left turn towards a known location, I take a right turn into the unknown. Windows down, music blasting, this is the start of an adventure.

Like all adventures, I find myself in a perilous situation when my car stutters, falters, stops completely and I’m broken down far away from home, with no clue what’s wrong or how to fix my car.

Sometimes you have to make it up as you go along, so I pop the hood and steam blows out of the car. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how you want to look at it, whilst I’m stood in front of my car, a ball flies past my face and I hear angry shouting and few choice words (Cardiff University Netball Team).

A group of white teenagers have spotted a non-white man in the middle of nowhere and have decided it’s time to torment him. Luckily, this distracts me from trying to fix my car and I need to find a way of losing these thugs. Unluckily, it means I have to run. Now, how do you outsmart a bunch of teenagers? You run circles around them. That’s what I did.

To lose the gang, I slam the hood and run in circles around my car, Benny Hill style. After a few laps, the teenagers slow their pace due to exhaustion and dizziness. This is my time to escape. I get into the car, it’s suddenly working again, and drive away.

Because this is England, as I’m driving the sunny weather disappears and it begins to snow. Guess what happens next? My car breaks down, again. This time, I’m not going to try and fix it. I’m going to walk in the snow to find somewhere warm to hide and wait for all this to blow over.

I grab my hoodie and start walking. Eventually, I stumble upon a pub that says it serves food. This is where I’ll be spending my day until the snow clears. As I walk through the door, I find myself in the middle of a city surrounded by mud, water, and broken wooden bridges. The door wasn’t the door to a pub, it was a door to a parallel universe.

As I take a look at my surroundings, I don’t have much time to accustom as a group of dogs rapidly run towards me. If you know me, you know I’m massively scared of dogs, but this time my animal instincts kick in and I fight back. Thinking I’m about to take a free kick in the last minute of the World Cup Final, I get into position and fight back.

Some of the dogs are kicked across the mud; others are caught mid-air and thrown away; some have their necks broken to reduce the number in the pack; and, in a bizarre turn of events, I take the noses off some of the dogs to freeze their movements.

The dogs that were kicked into the mud have transformed into children and shout and scream for help as they’ve found bodies buried in the mud. My human instincts kick in and I run over to help the children. As I get closer to the screams, I spot a girl struggling to get out of the mud. I lean over and grab her hand, pulling her out of the mud. All around me, people help other little girls get out of the mud.

Everyone is confused. Why are little girls coming out of the mud? What has happened in this little town for people to bury girls?

In the distance, we all hear sirens. A few seconds later, we see the blues and twos associated with the police. One of the police officers is driving my car. They’ve managed to fix it and have brought it to me. What a nice gesture. How did they know I was here? The police officer driving my car, steps out and addresses the gathering:

Today is a historic day. Today is the day the prophecy has come true. Several years ago, this town was ravaged by a horde of high ranking men who went around impregnating the towns women. When their dirty secrets were revealed, the heinous acts they committed were made even worse as they began killing and burying the women who were about to give birth to their offspring.”

The gathering is shocked. Some vomit from what they’re being told. The dogs I kicked into the mud were the ones capable of saving the children due to their natural digging abilities. The police officer continues:

These children, who we’ve just saved, have spent their lives in the mud. They miraculously survived the brutal conditions. These children are not actually children; the chemical conditions of the mud has slowed their growth. What you see before you are grown adults.”

I slowly back away from the crowd, get into my car, and drive away. That’ll be the last time I go on a drive without an end destination.

The above story and all incidents are fictitious and has been written to show the power of the creative mind when one shuts themselves away from the world and writes until they reach a natural ending.



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