There I was, driving southbound on Hoover Rd. in the brown 1974 Ford Grand Torrio Elite my parents had bought me for my last birthday. I had only had this gigantic, steel car for about ten months. I was in love with every inch of the car, from its tan mint condition interior to its flawless, dark brown, glossy body. Usually when I would drive it would seem as if I were in heaven; just floating along down the road. Today however was different; something didn't seem right about the foggy environment around me. It was as if I couldn't control my actions or feelings, I had no sense of taste, touch, and barely any sight, and for some reason it was 7:30 in the morning, but black as midnight outside. For some reason I could feel that something bad was going to happen.
             I knew I was running late for my dreaded Calculus class at the high school so I sped up a little. Every few hundred yards or so I would speed up until I was racing down the long stretch or asphalt at about seventy miles per hour. All of the sudden a huge black dog darted out in front of me. I slammed on the brakes, snatched the wheel, and tried to avoid the helpless dog. It was too late. I clipped the dog in the rear sending me into a uncontrollable tailspin into the ditch where my car landed upside down. That was the last of my wonderful car. Well so I thought it was.
             "Kris wake up! You're going to be late!" shouted my preachful mother. I abruptly dove out of bed as if it was on fire and I was something very flammable. "Whew!" I thought, "what a terrible dream!" I threw my clothes on and was out of the house faster that my mom could even ask me if I wanted breakfast. I jumped into the car remembering the dream I had just had and hurried over to pick up my friend. I pulled up to his house where he was waiting outside shaking his head at me like a disappointed father.
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