Caughtin The Act

Essay by PaperNerd ContributorHigh School, 11th grade November 2001

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The dry smell of dirt fills my nose. The endless trail of flies swarm above my head. My friend has decided to bring along his most valuable baseball cards to the game "“ Bo Jackson, Ken "The Kid" Griffey, Barry Bonds "“ I want them all! Too young to grasp the material value of them, I am interested in the social standing that comes with owning the small pieces of cardboard precious enough to be put in plastic coverings. As I stare at them in envy, I suddenly realize they could be mine! Without thinking, I sprint to the car, hide the cards, and return short of breath and trembling with anxiousness. I freeze in terror as I realize my devious plan could lead to serious punishments. My confidence gradually decreases as my fear intensifies; beads of sweat slowly trickle down my face. My dad's icy voice hits my ear.

A strong uneasiness quickly fills my stomach. My fingers tremble as I obey my dad's command and hand the cards back to Mark. My Dad calmly puts his hand on my lower back and forces me forward. My shivering arms barely manage to open and close the door. Heads turn as the tires burnout; a dreadful silence fills the car except for the roar of the engine as my Dad redlines every gear in anger. Every minute that passes heightens my fear of the inevitable punishment I will soon receive. I learn I can not deceive my dad, eve with expertly thought out plans.