Personal Narrative - Driving Test
- Length: 1369 words (3.9 double-spaced pages)
- Rating: Excellent
As I walked out of the courthouse and down the ramp, I looked at my mom in disappointment and embarrassment. Never wanting to return to that dreadful place, I slowly drug my feet back to the car. I wanted to curl up in a little ball and I didn't want anyone else to know what I had done. Gaining my composure, I finally got into the car. I didn't even want to hear what my mom had to say. My face was beat red and I was trying to hide my face in the palms of my hands because I knew what was about to come; she was going to start asking me questions, all of the questions I had been asking myself. Sure enough, after a short period of being in the car, the questions began.
"Honey, how could we have miscalculated six months?
My frustrated reply to every question was, "I don't know!"
Maybe this was a sign I was going to fail. I could only imagine how my brother and sister were going to make me feel. They had teased me about studying so hard for the permit test. Now here I was, not actual failing the drivers test, but failing to go on the correct day.
Exactly one month later, all of the fears that happened in the past were returning. Was I going to fail? Was I going to get the same, strict instructor? As I slide out of the car and slowly shut the door, I could only hope that the same person wouldn't be there when I attempted to take my driving test last time. With that thought running through my head, my brain was in overdrive. All the wheels were turning as fast as they possibly could.
I tried to zone out the negative stories I heard by telling myself, "I can do this. I just drove through town on a practice run and I did perfectly fine."
Of course, the fear of failure kept popping in my head and I couldn't get rid of it.Sluggishly, I made my way to the entrance of the courthouse. As I reached for the door, I let out a sigh of worry. I moseyed down the stairs trying to stall as long as possible. All that I could picture was the instructor with dark, slanted eyebrows that made a wrinkle between his two critical eyes.
I could just imagine his evil laugh when he failed me. Walking through the completely white hallway with only signs to guide me to the right place, I read every sign hoping that the one that read DRIVERS LISCENCE would be closed. The hallway seemed like it was a mile long and I knew that we were approaching the last few doors, one of which would say the two most horrifying words. I looked down at the ground; when I looked up, I was faced with the fear of the huge, bold lettered welcome sign. Peeking around the corner, I preyed that the evil instructor would be out for the day. Lucky me, I was standing face to face with the same instructor that I had heard so many terrifying stories about. With thoughts those in my mind, along with the thought of failing, I didn't know what to do.
I tried making myself comfortable in the seats that were lined up against the wall. It was as though I was sitting in an electric chair doomed for failure. I was swaying back and forth so it was obvious I was nervous. My mom had told me on the way down not to let him know I was nervous because then he would think that I was not ready to get my license. Well, I had already failed at that.
I waited in anticipation for the line of people ahead of me to slowly shorten. When we finally arrived at the front of the line, the room seemed to be spinning, and I felt like I was going to pass out. Hoping this feeling would pass soon, I leaned on the desk. Finally, I realized that I was making the situation ten times worse than it really was, and I was ready to get the test over.
With all the paper work out of the way, the instructor and I started out to the car. Ironically, a few good words of wisdom from my mom made my knees weaker than they already were. After climbing the flight of fifteen steps, I looked one last time at the place where I would hopefully be returning to with my license. Gasping for air, I grabbed the railing at the top of the stairs that seemed to have turned into the never ending flight of stairs. With all the nerves trembling inside of me, I knew that each obstacle I came across would be ten times worse than what it really was. As we approached the car, I kept on thinking of all the things that could go wrong and worst was failing the test.
After testing the blinkers, the instructor was ready to begin the test. I pulled out of the courthouse, and was told to make a right turn. My mind went blank, and I couldn't even remember which way was left and which way was right. I formed both my index fingers and my thumbs into the shape of an L hoping this would point me in the right direction.
I came to the first stop sign. Was this the sign that would make me fail? I approached the sign and spelled out the word S.T.O.P. My sister said this was the best way to know that you have made a complete stop, something that a number of people had failed the test for in the past. Making a left turn, we were making our way into town where the stoplights were. The instructor instructed me to make another left turn. There was a car in front of me, so I figured that I was safe to do what the car ahead of me was doing. I followed the car into the right lane. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the instructor writing on his blank piece of paper. Right then, I knew that I had done something wrong.
After driving for what seemed like and eternity, we headed back to the courthouse. I parked the car and removed the keys from the ignition. While stepping out of the car, I looked at the paper that he had been taking notes on, and noticed that the blank piece of paper was no longer blank. With barely an inch to spare at the bottom of the paper, the instructor began explaining to me all the things I had done wrong. I felt like a two year old because of all the drawings he had made explaining every little mistake. Walking behind the instructor like a zombie, not knowing if that thought of failing the test was really going to come true, I could feel the color draining from my face.
I knew what my mom was going to say when I saw her, and sure enough, the first words out of her mouth were "Did you pass?"
I shrugged my shoulders hoping the instructor would answer her question. His reply was the same as mine, a shoulder shrug. Right then I wanted to break down and cry. I sat in the chair just as embarrassed as the time when I came in on the wrong day. I knew that I couldn't return to that dreadful place a third time. Then, when I thought things couldn't go any worse, the instructor asked me to stand in front of the blue screen and get my picture. I thought that this picture was for the wall of shame.
He printed out the picture and said, "Drive careful."
I was speechless. Now as I walked down the ramp I looked at my mom in excitement and relief. I was so proud of myself for going back and facing my fear of that dreadful place. I know now that whatever I put my mind to I can do.