Yellow Lines

Before my mom remarried we took trips to North Carolina. The weekend came and I grew ecstatic, knowing we would soon depart. I would eagerly look out the window. My eyes met trees dancing past. Other cars zipped beside us. However, my favorite thing about these rides were below the trees and cars. My eyes wandered down and didn't stop until they were in sight. My eyes were glued to the yellow lines. I imagined a tiny motorcycle driven by a dog in a tutu. Giggling to myself, my mother gave me a questioning look. My giggles stopped and I continued to imagine the motorcycle-driving-tutu-wearing pooch. It started doing flips. After awhile the motorcycle got boring, so I thought another amusing scene. This time, little monsters scurried around. They were different shapes, sizes and colors. Jumping on tires, climbing up to windows. One monster had 3 eyes and red skin and did the hokey pokey. Holding in my giggles was almost impossible. I didn't want my mom to give me a serious grown up face again. The red monster was joined by a purple monster. He was riding a unicycle. I stopped imagining them just in time to see we made it to our destination. Every weekend, his house became ours. Finally, we would go to bed Sunday and wake up at 3 in the morning. I was beyond tired, my eyes didn't fail to find my the lines. My imagination ran wild and the lines became my art. This time there were no motorcycles or monsters. Instead, lizards marching in cadence. It was like they were forming an army. I looked harder at the lizards and in unison I heard, "Left! Right! Left!" I couldn't help but laugh. My mother glanced in the mirror and raised an eyebrow. Quickly stopping, I turned my head back to the asphalt canvas. The unified yellow line lizards made me lose track of time. We were turning into our driveway back in Virginia. Sadly knowing that I had to wait a week to see the yellow lines again. Every day I waited patiently for Friday to come. Thursday came I packed my clothes. Then I made sure to go to bed early. At that age I was convinced that going to bed early would make the next day arrive quicker. Of course, when I awoke it felt as if it did just that. Jumping into the car, throwing my seatbelt on and impatiently waiting for my mom. My grin grew when she turned the car on. Then once the highway was in sight that grin of mine evolved until my cheeks hurt. The trees zoomed past my window, but at a slow pace. Cars joined us on the road embarking on their own journey but it seemed they were missing something. Then, my yellow lines were in sight. I pushed the dull trees and bland cars to the back of mind. I refused to let them bring me down. However, nothing happened. Well, nothing had been happening since it was merely my imagination. Except now even though I was trying, I couldn't imagine anything. Upset I closed my eyes as tight as possible. When I opened them I hoped my imagination would turn back on. It didn't turn on. Not even a small flicker appeared. My eyes became tiny waterfalls flowing to my chin. My mother heard my whimpers. She asked me what was wrong and I replied, "My imagination is broken." My mother must have not understood how serious this was. She laughed and shook her head with no reply. I peered out the window towards my yellow lines. Now, they were just two ugly yellow lines that seemed to stretch forever. The trees came into view and I hoped they would start to dance and not stay still. All the trees remained still. The only movement was the wind rustling their leaves and branches. My imagination was broken and there was nothing I could do about it. So silentlyI pouted in the backseat. Without an imagination, road trips were boring. After 4 hours we made it to North Carolina. Those 4 hours felt like an entire week though. We unpacked, ate dinner and after was bedtime. Before we all fell asleep, I went to my moms room. "Why is my imagination broke mom," I asked softly. Instead of laughing this time she gave me an explanation. Thanking her I ran to bed, excited once again. I couldn't wait until we left, mom gave me the cure for my imagination. So at 3 on Monday morning we packed and got in the car. Wide eyed I buckled up and smiled all the way to the highway. We arrived on the highway, I closed my eyes and thought real hard about what my mom had told me. I opened my eyes then looked at the yellow lines. I stared and stared and stared. I did that until we made it home. After we got home and unpacked, mom came in to my room. She asked if her advice worked and I nodded. As she was about to leave the room, she turned and asked what I saw this time. "I didn't see anything. I did what you told me to do. I just thought, instead of imagining motorcycles or monsters or lizard, I thought. I thought of our new family and when we permanently move to North Carolina. I thought of the new friends I will make and the school I'll attend," I announced. She smiled and kissed my forehead.

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William

artist, musician, writer, Luddite

Troy, United States