Written from a prompt (Write about a stop sign)
The stop sign, bright and red gleamed at me. It was telling me what I should do - the smart thing to do.
But since when have I ever done the smart thing? Smart wasn't even in my vocabulary.
Still I drove on, pushed my foot down on the accelerator and went on like my life depended on it. Maybe it did.
Every sign I passed, every red light, every little thing that caught my eye told me what I already knew. I knew that this was hopeless, endless - stupid.
But I had gone too far now; there was no turning back.
The house in front of me gleamed like a roaring fire. Every light was lit up. It was a beacon in the dark night. It was my north star.
With shaking hands I took the keys out and opened the door.
I stopped. Why now did I stop? When I couldn't before.
I was here; I was going to do it, and yet...
I couldn't get out of the car. I couldn't make my feet move. My heart, which had been beating frantically to the tune of a hyperatic toddler who had gotten a hold of a spoon and pot only moment ago froze. My chest was as still as the graveyard I knew I would be lying in soon.
This was stupid. This was impossible.
I needed to be rational about this. I have put a lot of time and effort into...
I could do this! I would do this!
My determination propelled me out of the car, but as soon as the door shut, the sound echoing though out the empty street I froze up again.
Further proof of my stupidity - my utter and completely stupidity. I told you I wasn't smart. I was...
I was here and I was going to do this. I had to do this.
I nodded, pumping myself up, letting the inspirational tunes of my childhood - the spiderman theme and the constant ba-ba-bamp-ba of Indiana Jones - pulse through my head as I took a step forward, and then another.
I stopped again - no, no I didn't, I waited.
The door came open with a creek. The man's expression was unreadable in the dim light. His eyes hidden.
"Hi dad," I swallowed pushing back his nervous, "I'm home."