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The Attack (standard:horror, 2489 words)
Author: Casey PoncianoAdded: Aug 09 2001Views/Reads: 2225/1437Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
2528 was a scary road, especially in the dark. But it was the fastest way to get home for Christian and his parents. And they hit something that stops them beside the road. Something that attacks Christian and his parents. Something that changes Christian

“Mommy, are we there yet?” I asked as I looked outside of the window. 

“Christian, I told you to sit down and be quiet,” my mother said.  I
loved my mother.  She was very pretty.  I always thought she was the 
prettiest woman in the world.  She had long brown hair and dark brown 
eyes.  She was light skin and very petite and whenever she smiled at 
me, she’d made me feel great, no matter what I did wrong.  She was also 
very cautious with me.  I always thought she had eyes behind her head, 
because when I was about to do something wrong, she’d tell me to ‘watch 
out’ or ‘don’t do that’.  Especially when I was in the van.   I knew 
she kept an eye on me from the passenger rearview mirror.  Sometimes 
when I knew she was looking at me, I’d stick out my tongue at her.  In 
return, she’d stick her tongue back at me.  We always played around 
like that. 

But that day I didn’t listen to her.  My father bought me two Hot Wheels
and I got off my seat to play with them.  The van was very big to me 
because I was a small kid.  Whenever I had toys, I would always roam 
around the van and play with them. 

“Mommy and daddy, are we there yet?” I asked again.  I was eager to get
home because of the road we were driving through.  In order for us to 
get home, we’d drive through a back road called farm road 2528.  The 
road was very scary and lonely because all the houses there were empty 
and cars hardly passed through it.  And it made it worse because we 
were driving during the night.  Home sounded like a better place. 

“Christian, sit down and listen to your mother,” my father said.  I did
as he told me.  My mother was always easy with me, but when it came to 
my father, I listened.  My father was a serious and very big man, not 
fat, but muscular.  He’d always stayed in shape.  Every morning he’d 
wake me up for breakfast because he jogged for thirty minutes. Even his 
voice sometimes scared me because it was a deep tone.  He didn’t try to 
scare me, but that’s they way his voice was.  Sometimes my friends 
never came over because of my father.  He had brown eyes and he always 
kept his hair very short, as if he was in the military.  My family 
always said I looked like him.  I was proud of that. 

“Okay,” I replied.  I sat right by the left window and buckled my

You see we were driving back from Lubbock because we were grocery
shopping.  We lived out in the country, or what some people called it, 
‘the boonies’.  But I loved it out there because it was very quit and 
peaceful.  The town near us was Abernathy, which was a small town north 
of Lubbock, and because it was small, the grocery stores there were 
expensive.  But in Lubbock, they were a lot cheaper, and my parents 
always found a way to save money. 

As I sat by the window, I looked out of it and up at the bright stars
and the moon outside.  The stars glimmered and I noticed the moon was 
an orange color.  I always wondered how they stayed up there.  They’re 
always pretty to look at.  Minutes passed and I got bored so I started 
playing with my Hot Wheels again.  But this time I stayed in the seat.  
I didn’t want father mad at me. 

“Daddy, are we there yet?” I asked again. 

“We’re almost---,” but he didn’t finish what he was saying because my
mother cut him off. 

“David, watch out!” she yelled at him as she grabbed the steering wheel.
 The van jerked as we hit something.  My head hit the window on the 
left side.  My mother and my father grabbed the steering wheel and 
twisted it to the right.  My father pressed the brakes and the tires 
screeched as the van was making a stop.  The van swirled to the right 
side of the road and finally came to a complete halt.  Good thing I 
buckled my seatbelt.  We hit something, something big, but we didn’t 
know what it was. 

“Dammit!” my father said furiously.  I knew he was angry.  He made a
fist and he punched the steering wheel.  I didn’t know if he was angry 
with me, or if he was angry because we hit something.  I apologized to 
play it safe. 

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