The Car Crash

       As I enter my father's grey 1993 Honda Civic the stench of stale beer slams into me. The smell of my hockey equipment that I throw into the backseat does anything but help. Within minutes of us leaving the arena my father starts arguing with me, blaming me for his shortcomings. My father looks and acts just like your stereotypical drunk that you see in any movie. He has a beer belly the size of a small child and greasy black hair that matches his disgusting beard. I have no idea where he gets the money to pay for all of his liquor as he hasn't been employed ever since my mom left him for his boss. As the buildings fly by us my father starts to swerve back and forth on the deserted roadway and I realize just how drunk he is. Before I can yell at my father to slow down the sound of police sirens pierce my mind. My father curses and guns the engine. I start screaming at him to slow down before he gets us both killed, to no avail. We reach the end of the street and I realize, too late, that my father has no intentions of stopping. The last thing i see before blacking out is my father's lifeless body, thrown halfway across the bank's lobby.