I hate my family.
It all started when my witch of a mom decided it was a great idea to go on a road trip.
I can’t stay home because she wants the whole family to be there.
I hate my family.

I hate my brother
My annoying little brother can’t be quiet for one second
He cries constantly and when I tell him to shut up my mom gets mad
I hate my brother

I hate my sister.
Her annoying singing physically irks me.
My mom notices my ill look and gets mad that I’m not supporting my sister’s singing.
I hate my sister

There we were, all stuffed in a little Kia Soul driving down the interstate. I couldn’t listen to music because my mom wanted us to discuss and have conversations like a family, I hate my family. So I stared out the passenger seat window, where I was forced to sit, half asleep watching the mind-numbing abyss pass by. When I perk up, a brand new black Audi R8 zooms past us. Yes it’s a beautiful car, but that’s not what caught my attention; The 4 rings, shining brightly in the sunlight reminded me of something. Just earlier that week in Mrs. Johnson’s history class, whom I also hate, we learned about cultures and the symbols of religions. In the Christian faith, whenever the world comes to an end, the apocalypse will be brought in the form of 4 horsemen; These 4 horsemen are Conquest, War, Famine, and Death. I wish those 4 horsemen would come and kill my family. Eventually, that shiny black Audi R8 gets so far out of sight that I can’t see it anymore, and I go back to staring at nothing. My sister still horribly singing decides to direct her voice toward my whimpering younger brother, he who obviously isn’t appreciative of this, starts full-blown crying. There begins the fight for the territory of sound in the backseat, which in turn results in the most vicious bark of silence out of my mother's mouth. All of us shocked, at the sheer demand and anger in our mother's voice sit in silence, scared to move a muscle. Mother, now happily pleased at the area of sound she just conquered, looks over at me and then back at the road, her soft gaze still as disgusting as before, I hate her. We sit in silence until my mom pulls off of an exit and into a gas station, I look over, we’re still good on gas so what are we here for? My brother cheerfully asks our mother for a snack, she accepts and he jumps out of the car, I hate him. She drags me and my sister out of the car and we all walk inside; She tells us to look around but we can only get one drink and one snack, we all nod in agreement and proceed to wander around the store. I walk to the freezers and grab a small coke from the bottom shelf, sighing in boredom as I reach down. I stand straight up and notice across the store sits a food counter and up above the counter hangs a sign, a sign that reads, “W.A.R. Mac and Cheese.” Interested, I walk over to the counter and stare up at the sign, “Warm And Ready Mac and Cheese,” hmm I think, doesn’t sound so bad. I ring a little bell that rests on the counter, expecting someone to show up. I look down at the bell and notice a little bug struggling to crawl away from it, it moves centimeter by centimeter until it finally stops moving and dies, all in a matter of seconds. Just then, I hear my mom call my name in that disgusting voice of hers from across the store, “Austin!” she says, “We’re leaving.” I roll my eyes and turn around, guess no mac and cheese for me today. I continue to walk toward her as she’s checking out my sister's drink, my brother's snack resting in a new crinkled plastic bag. The store clerk notices my gaze, “I know, you’re probably thinking about the plastic bag and how bad it is for the earth, and I one hundred percent agree. All this plastic is surely from the devil and all it’s going to result in is a shell of our planet, starving for life.” I awkwardly nod my head in agreement and quickly change my gaze to elsewhere. My mom pulls out a twenty-dollar bill and tells me to put my drink on the counter. I roll my eyes again and lazily place my drink on the counter to be scanned. When the store clerk is finished my mom hands him the twenty and turns toward the door, leaving the bag of snacks and drinks for me to carry. We arrive back to the car and continue on our way, driving back up the interstate in a matter of minutes. My sister snaps at me to give her, her snack and drink, I respond “only if you stop singing.” My mom glares at me and I frustratedly reach into the bag and pull out what I assume could only be her snack, a gluten-free chocolate bar, and a herbal green leaf tea. I scoff in disgust as I grab the snack and drink and hand it to my sister. She sings in a terrible melodic voice, “thank you,” I hate her. About an hour had passed and I began to feel my stomach turn in knots, hunger pains began to set in as I hopelessly realize I’d forgotten to get a snack at the gas station. I mumble “great,” as I grab my coke and begin to open it. As I pull the tab up, I see fizz and coke spew out of the tiny opening, causing sticky soda to flood the floorboard of our tiny Kia Soul and drench me in coke. I curse under my breath and see out of the corner of my eye, my terrible witch of a mom jerk her head and glare at me. “You better clean that!” she barks at me, my eyes begin to burn and my heart feels up with an enormous amount of hate. I stare back into the ugly eyes of my mother as our souls come to a standoff inside of this tiny Kia Soul. Just then, a bright light fills every inch of the inside of the car as a massive semi smashes into the front of us. I’m not quite sure what happened next, all I know is that I’m now recovering from a brain bleed caused by the sudden head trauma of the wreck. The doctors say I’m lucky to be alive, but I hate it here, I wish I was dead, or, at least I did until I found out I was the only survivor in my family. I feel so relieved, no more disgusting looks and evil faces, no more out-of-tune singing, and no more obnoxious crying, my day couldn’t be any better. The doctors say a couple of weeks have passed since the wreck but the cops still have questions, they want to know why my mom was in the opposite lane of traffic. How’s that old saying go, “what they don’t know, won’t hurt them,” yea, we’ll go with that.