HIIII~ 
First time posting something on here so I'm a bit nervous honestly. xD; This may be the start of a series of different stories, some are based on true story, some are not, I'll let you decide. Fun, fun, fun. None will be boring or else... why would I bother doing this? ;
All the stories, no matter how um... morbid? No, umm... 'down' they will always have some comedy in it that will hopefully make you laugh a little if not as much as I do.
; Some stories will be completely real, some will be real with twists I've added in and others will be completely fake. Again, you decide. Alot of them will be based on true stories, I promise. I just won't tell which ones. Think of it like a game maybe. D Aaaanyhooot...
This first story is in a style that I don't normally write in. I always write with waaay more detail, but I thought I'd give this a try. Other stories will be in more detail unless it doesn't fit the particular story. D: Umm, enjoy? And yes, I intentionally mispelled Happiness. Shooosh~
First time posting something on here so I'm a bit nervous honestly. xD; This may be the start of a series of different stories, some are based on true story, some are not, I'll let you decide. Fun, fun, fun. None will be boring or else... why would I bother doing this? ; All the stories, no matter how um... morbid? No, umm... 'down' they will always have some comedy in it that will hopefully make you laugh a little if not as much as I do.
; Some stories will be completely real, some will be real with twists I've added in and others will be completely fake. Again, you decide. Alot of them will be based on true stories, I promise. I just won't tell which ones. Think of it like a game maybe. D Aaaanyhooot... This first story is in a style that I don't normally write in. I always write with waaay more detail, but I thought I'd give this a try. Other stories will be in more detail unless it doesn't fit the particular story. D: Umm, enjoy? And yes, I intentionally mispelled Happiness.
Shooosh~-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bienvenidos al Desencantamiento
Happyness File #1:
Fake or not?
Rent-a-Car Rhapsody
Water. It was all around us. Icy cold and rapidly swishing about.
I swear I heard laughter coming from the waves and ripples.
I could hear my own laughter from just minutes ago joining in as well.
But that was quickly drowned out as I heard my mother scream, hyperventilating and practically digging her nails into the car door, trying to wretch it open by the handle.
It wouldn't budge.
We were trapped.
My aunt in the backseat with me and my cousin in the drivers seat with my mother in the passenger.
I saw there, feeling the rising air bubble coming through the carpeting of the car floor.
The pressure of the water from outside was breaking in, slipping through the cracks of the panels.
Everywhere.
And I just sat there. Frozen, my arms clutching my bag in a death grip and maybe, just maybe, it'll be our life saver in this mess.
Were we really going to end up like that family? The family we were unintentionally laughing at minutes ago?
They had arrived to the Dominican Republic, the entire family. All of them in one van, more than likely happily, going back to their home after visiting the states.
During this time, the city had inaugurated the new tunnel along the highway. The very first one of its kind. We went through it when we came from the airport just this morning.
It's huge!
So huge, you can just feel claustrophobia rising up along your body. Even if you don't suffer from it.
And just when you think you'll collapse and surrender to that suffocating feeling, you're out of the tunnel and back onto the highway. The heat from the sun touching your face through the window of the car. And... well, you feel safe again.
You feel warm and happy, eagerly awaiting the local foods that you'll soon consume that day. Awaiting the chance to see the family that lives on this island, the ones you don't get a chance to see often thanks to the obvious distance from the states and here.
But what of that family? The ones in that van from before? The ones that we--that I laughed at. The water is rising faster now, it's up to my ankles, crawling up to my knees.
I can just imagine the water like creatures, nibbling away at my shoes and into my skin, sending cold waves into my blood.
My mom is crying now and my aunt, her sister, is trying to calm her down. Trying to rationally think a way out of this. And my cousin, the one who got us into this mess, was banging at the window with his brute fists.
Futile. That would never work.
Just like it surely didn't work for that family. So, what happened to them?
You see, on that day they came back from their trip, there was a huge storm. The streets were lining up with water. By the way, the streets here are horrible... they are what also got us into this mess. The drains are usually clogged with trash and... you get the idea.
Everything just drowns with the water.
Everything including the family and perhaps us as well.
The newly made tunnel was rapidly filling up with water, the driver of the family's van apparently thought he could make it through quickly. My cousin thought the same thing, except we weren't in a tunnel and yet the same thing happened to us.
The family's van accelerated through the tunnel, other cars were turning around or just stopping all together. But they kept going.
I darkly thought of how the kids in that van must have been laughing and playing around.
And how the rest of the family was joking around about the water, just like us.
The van stopped. The water reached and took a hold of it, seeping through the gears, holding the engine to a stop. It's claws held everything to a stop.
But it didn't stop the laughter and the joking from turning into shrilling screams and panicked cries.
It didn't stop, it didn't halt and it had no mercy on how fast it enveloped that family. The windows turned to cell bars with no openings, not even to shout for help.
The van tumbled and was soon floating, slowly sinking into the ever rising water that consumed the tunnel, turning it into a death trap for anyone there.
I could only see how their luggages popped open from the pressure and how their bodies struggled, lungs bursting as their laughter echoed along the water. It was dark everywhere, no lights, nothing.
Was that darkness the last thing that entered their eyes?
Somehow, strangely enough, that was what scared me the most.
I didn't want my last image to be of that.
I didn't want the last thing I heard to be my mother's screams and choked cries.
I didn't want the icky cold to surround me as I breathed my last grasp of air.
I just didn't want to die in the backseat of a rented car with only a cellphone, a novel, wallet, lip gloss and my Stitch plushie all in the confines of a Harajuku Lovers handbag.
And then I wondered, would our things be stolen as well? Would our bodies, lifeless, be robbed at before any police or firefighter came to our belated rescue?
That family, the ones in the van, got robbed. All of their luggage was robbed of, along with several possessions they had on hand including clothes and shoes.
Robbed. Robbed before anyone could come to your rescue.
Never mind the fact that you're dead, but that you're actually getting robbed and not getting saved, a futile rescue, but nonetheless... saved.
Having your body pulled out from that van, away from the icy tomb. You won't be brought back.
But... someone cared enough to get you out of there.
Not rob you while you are devoid of all life.
Maybe you're asking yourself “Is she dead yet? Did they drown too?”
No. Not yet. Actually, Some things I've said has been a lie.
Let's go back a bit.
Before the water came up to my ankles.
Before my mother started crying.
Before my cousin tried to kame-hame-ha the window open .
And before my aunt was rationally thinking things out.
Rational, really now.
“So, first the plane almost crashes and now this.” I say.
“Looks like the storm is getting pretty bad. Are you sure this a good road? Shouldn't we take the one off of Frederico by the pizzeria?” My aunt says.
“Come oooon! I've been through these roads how many times, Mom? Huh? Come on now, this, you see this? This is nothing. N-o-t-h-i-n-g, nothing.” The cousin says.
“We should've taken the 'plane almost crashing' as a warning to not come here. There's a hurricane coming here too. Two warnings. Count that, two warnings.” I say, irritably now.
“The rain is coming down harder! Look, I seriously think we should turn back.” My mom adds. I think I recall seeing her fidgeting with her seatbelt.
I recognize these roads more clearly now before I look over at the dashboard clock and see the bright green numbers of one forty-four glaring at me. Next to them is smaller text: A.M.
My aunt starts telling us this story. Something about a family in a van who all drowned in the new tunnel off the main highway in the capitol.
Santo Domingo.
Right where we are.
No tunnels in sight but the conditions fit, don't they?
Conversation goes back and forth, I join in after my eyes start growing dull from watching the blasts of water waves hitting our windows as we drive down the unstable roads.
We laugh shortly after my aunt tells the story. By no means were we laughing directly at the story.
But it sure seemed that way.
Another swift turn, more driving, more stopping.
Now we're literally two minutes away from our destination.
“I'm gonna take this shortcut.” My cousin speaks.
“That... looks really flooded.” I cut in, looking over his shoulder.
“Naah, it's not. It only looks that way.”
He informed me very knowingly. And you know what? Silently, I agreed. The water didn't look steep, in fact, scattered areas looked like the street itself, uncovered by water.
Oh, illusion of light, how clever you are.
He drives further in, the road curves into a corner before straightening, I could see it.
My mom nervously speaks out, telling him to turn around.
My aunt warns him and tells him the same.
My cousin just acts like nothing will happen.
Then a deep 'clunking' sound reaches our ears and suddenly the car starts... floating?
Don't ask me how that's possible and really I could care less.
All that I focused on was how the car just stopped, how it seemed to 'feel' as if the car lifted up.
“Shi--! O-okay, we'll just stay here!” The cousin, who tries to rev the car on.
“You idiot! We told you to turn around! But noooo, you just had to keep going!” The aunt, who is hitting the cousin, her son, on the head with her purse.
“A-are you sure it's safe with us in here? No water will get in?” My mom, who can't swim.
“Water is getting in.” Me, who somehow says this with a twinge of laughter at the back of my throat.
And how I immediately opened the door to my side as soon as I felt a bubble rising from beneath my feet.
Fortunately, my cousin, my aunt and I opened our doors before the car locks could kick in and before the pressure of the water could really diminish our chance of escape.
My mom, however, could not open her door.
She was scared and didn't move.
She froze.
I did hear her screams and cries as she pulled the seatbelt away and scrambled to get out.
My aunt had gotten out from the other side and was now struggling against the strong currents along the road.
I got out just as my cousin pulled my mom from her seat, forcing her out of the car thankfully.
If he hadn't done that, her fear would have kept her there and... who knows.
The water easily reached our waists as we walked against the currents.
But I stopped.
Why?
Laugh at me for this, I beg you to because even I can't explain why I did this.
I went back to the car and throughout all the madness that was happening something popped into my mind.
My cousins laptop.
I made it just in time before the door could shut close and quickly grabbed the briefcase with said laptop and made my way to join the others on 'higher ground'.
A laptop, honestly.
Needless to say we were soaked from head to toe, standing underneath a sheltered part of an old rundown office building.
Mind you. This was not a good neighborhood, but honestly, that was the last thing on our minds.
My aunt managed to call for help in the form of my step-dad and other cousin who were at our destination.
A security guard, or watch man as they call them there, approached us moments later and—a little info on this: Many, many buildings... almost all of them have watch men.
It is also quite common for them to be, out in the open, holding a gun. This one so happened to be holding an AK-47.
Again, needless to say, I was even more terrified, not having been informed of that being quite... um... normal and honestly it is.
I guess I just haven't been paying much attention till right now at, lets say, two thirty in the morning...
While the only part of the rented car that was showing was the roof.
I could faintly see the headlights blinking on and off, circuitry falling helplessly to the ravaging waters.
Help came minutes later, my step-dad and my other cousin were walking along the water, trying not to fall over.
How they helped when they themselves seemed to be in the same situation as us? Well... they provided support and led us along the waters as the watch man waved his AK-47 at us in goodbye.
My Mom was surprisingly ahead of us, sprinting along the water like a madman as she clutched her purse tightly. Guess her fear had made an escape.
Or maybe it was the fact that she remembered that she was carrying all of our passports in her bag and if they got ruined... well, the rest is history.
By the way, we had to be careful even as we were trying to hurry. Why? The roads are littered with potholes, many of them so big you could fit your whole body into them and right now they were acting like vacuums.
All of my things survived, even my cellphone. My book was only ruined by some pages, the Stitch plush was soaked but nothing a little bit of hair dryer couldn't fix and my handbag was good as well.
And that was that. We made it home safely, as safe as can be really, and managed to fill the apartment with water from our clothes as we went in.
The passports were safe as my mom waved them above her head in triumph.
My step-dad and cousin, not the one who was driving, the other one, went off to the fire station that was literally about two minutes from where we had been.
It wasn't a fire station like those you might imagine.... no, it was far from it. It was, literally put, a dim concrete-like shack. When they came back from their visit to the brave heroes, I just couldn't believe it.
Apparently the fire fighters had been sleeping, they came out in their pajamas and shrugged when asked if they knew of that road and why they hadn't blocked if off as was law. They were told how our car was roof-top deep in water and how we almost drowned.
They shrugged again. Some of them going back to sleep in their cots.
Yes, they shrugged sleepily. They did this all the while standing ankle-deep in water themselves.
I love the Dominican Republic, the beautiful beaches, the people, the food, everything. But some things, like many, have gotten very bad there.
Ah, but that would be for another story.
In the end, our disaster came on in the news the next morning thanks to the connections my aunt had with a news anchor team. It brought to light how the people who are there, to help you in your time of need, simply didn't care.
And this happens every day over there, not the drowning, but the lack of safety. The drownings itself has happened every time a storm comes in, from one to several.
Even then no development of fixing those roads have been done.
As I was trying to dry my hair with a towel, I felt happy and even laughed. But just as soon as that wave of emotion hit me, another one did.
I cried my heart out because I could have died back there.
I mostly cried because not only could I have died, my mom could have died, my aunt, my cousin and even my step-dad and other cousin could have lost their life as well.
I cried as I thought back on that family in that van in that tunnel and a scary image of my own family replaced that one. One of my family and I getting robbed while we stare into nothing.
The thought horrified me. The chills I felt from the air conditioning were nothing from the ones I felt from that image in my head.
All of it only taught me further to live every single day of my life, because in seconds it could all be gone before you know it.
I turned the television on, landing on Cartoon Network as I heard my family talking about what had happened in the living room. My cousin was trying to reach the rent car company to report what had happened foremost, obviously they weren't going to be open at three in the morning.
Least he tried I guess.
My eyes lock onto the Spanish-version of the Powerpuff Girls, giving the hundreth chuckle at the fact that the title was ten-times longer in Spanish than it was in English. I then idly thought at how I had just gone through my third near-death experience in my life.
Lucky number three.
As I saw the cartoon going on, my mind droned out for a bit, letting the half-soaked towel lie on my shoulders as I sat on the bed.
It was Sunday, technically Monday now as I glanced over at the clock on the wall by the door.
Sunday, the day we arrived to the Dominican Republic on a sweltering hot day.
The day in which our plane almost crashed.
The day in which we almost drowned in a rented car.
The day in which a man stood by me with an AK-47 while I held a water-filled laptop in my hands.
Count this as the first day of our 'trip' and we were going to be staying two weeks.
I laid down, watching Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup fight Mojo-Jojo. Again I'm content and happy. I did not fight the urge to roll around on the bed like a mad person and proceed to jump on it.
There was just one little thing on the back of my mind though as I got into insane-mode.
Agree with me on this if you will.
But I think this is just the beginning of some unfortunate events.
In the meantime, why don't I tell you of other things? Sorry to say they don't get happier and may very well get worse. We'll have to take a step back in time however and that will have to wait for the next story.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Critique is welcome, both good and bad. I can take it D:! -cuelamebattlecry- Critique is always gewd Again, I know the story isn't detailed and I apologize. Also the dialogue was in Spanish and I tried my best to fully translate it as close to the original.
Thank you very much for taking the time to read this, to those who comment and to those who don't as well.D
Bienvenidos al Desencantamiento
Happyness File #1:
Fake or not?
Rent-a-Car Rhapsody
Water. It was all around us. Icy cold and rapidly swishing about.
I swear I heard laughter coming from the waves and ripples.
I could hear my own laughter from just minutes ago joining in as well.
But that was quickly drowned out as I heard my mother scream, hyperventilating and practically digging her nails into the car door, trying to wretch it open by the handle.
It wouldn't budge.
We were trapped.
My aunt in the backseat with me and my cousin in the drivers seat with my mother in the passenger.
I saw there, feeling the rising air bubble coming through the carpeting of the car floor.
The pressure of the water from outside was breaking in, slipping through the cracks of the panels.
Everywhere.
And I just sat there. Frozen, my arms clutching my bag in a death grip and maybe, just maybe, it'll be our life saver in this mess.
Were we really going to end up like that family? The family we were unintentionally laughing at minutes ago?
They had arrived to the Dominican Republic, the entire family. All of them in one van, more than likely happily, going back to their home after visiting the states.
During this time, the city had inaugurated the new tunnel along the highway. The very first one of its kind. We went through it when we came from the airport just this morning.
It's huge!
So huge, you can just feel claustrophobia rising up along your body. Even if you don't suffer from it.
And just when you think you'll collapse and surrender to that suffocating feeling, you're out of the tunnel and back onto the highway. The heat from the sun touching your face through the window of the car. And... well, you feel safe again.
You feel warm and happy, eagerly awaiting the local foods that you'll soon consume that day. Awaiting the chance to see the family that lives on this island, the ones you don't get a chance to see often thanks to the obvious distance from the states and here.
But what of that family? The ones in that van from before? The ones that we--that I laughed at. The water is rising faster now, it's up to my ankles, crawling up to my knees.
I can just imagine the water like creatures, nibbling away at my shoes and into my skin, sending cold waves into my blood.
My mom is crying now and my aunt, her sister, is trying to calm her down. Trying to rationally think a way out of this. And my cousin, the one who got us into this mess, was banging at the window with his brute fists.
Futile. That would never work.
Just like it surely didn't work for that family. So, what happened to them?
You see, on that day they came back from their trip, there was a huge storm. The streets were lining up with water. By the way, the streets here are horrible... they are what also got us into this mess. The drains are usually clogged with trash and... you get the idea.
Everything just drowns with the water.
Everything including the family and perhaps us as well.
The newly made tunnel was rapidly filling up with water, the driver of the family's van apparently thought he could make it through quickly. My cousin thought the same thing, except we weren't in a tunnel and yet the same thing happened to us.
The family's van accelerated through the tunnel, other cars were turning around or just stopping all together. But they kept going.
I darkly thought of how the kids in that van must have been laughing and playing around.
And how the rest of the family was joking around about the water, just like us.
The van stopped. The water reached and took a hold of it, seeping through the gears, holding the engine to a stop. It's claws held everything to a stop.
But it didn't stop the laughter and the joking from turning into shrilling screams and panicked cries.
It didn't stop, it didn't halt and it had no mercy on how fast it enveloped that family. The windows turned to cell bars with no openings, not even to shout for help.
The van tumbled and was soon floating, slowly sinking into the ever rising water that consumed the tunnel, turning it into a death trap for anyone there.
I could only see how their luggages popped open from the pressure and how their bodies struggled, lungs bursting as their laughter echoed along the water. It was dark everywhere, no lights, nothing.
Was that darkness the last thing that entered their eyes?
Somehow, strangely enough, that was what scared me the most.
I didn't want my last image to be of that.
I didn't want the last thing I heard to be my mother's screams and choked cries.
I didn't want the icky cold to surround me as I breathed my last grasp of air.
I just didn't want to die in the backseat of a rented car with only a cellphone, a novel, wallet, lip gloss and my Stitch plushie all in the confines of a Harajuku Lovers handbag.
And then I wondered, would our things be stolen as well? Would our bodies, lifeless, be robbed at before any police or firefighter came to our belated rescue?
That family, the ones in the van, got robbed. All of their luggage was robbed of, along with several possessions they had on hand including clothes and shoes.
Robbed. Robbed before anyone could come to your rescue.
Never mind the fact that you're dead, but that you're actually getting robbed and not getting saved, a futile rescue, but nonetheless... saved.
Having your body pulled out from that van, away from the icy tomb. You won't be brought back.
But... someone cared enough to get you out of there.
Not rob you while you are devoid of all life.
Maybe you're asking yourself “Is she dead yet? Did they drown too?”
No. Not yet. Actually, Some things I've said has been a lie.
Let's go back a bit.
Before the water came up to my ankles.
Before my mother started crying.
Before my cousin tried to kame-hame-ha the window open .
And before my aunt was rationally thinking things out.
Rational, really now.
“So, first the plane almost crashes and now this.” I say.
“Looks like the storm is getting pretty bad. Are you sure this a good road? Shouldn't we take the one off of Frederico by the pizzeria?” My aunt says.
“Come oooon! I've been through these roads how many times, Mom? Huh? Come on now, this, you see this? This is nothing. N-o-t-h-i-n-g, nothing.” The cousin says.
“We should've taken the 'plane almost crashing' as a warning to not come here. There's a hurricane coming here too. Two warnings. Count that, two warnings.” I say, irritably now.
“The rain is coming down harder! Look, I seriously think we should turn back.” My mom adds. I think I recall seeing her fidgeting with her seatbelt.
I recognize these roads more clearly now before I look over at the dashboard clock and see the bright green numbers of one forty-four glaring at me. Next to them is smaller text: A.M.
My aunt starts telling us this story. Something about a family in a van who all drowned in the new tunnel off the main highway in the capitol.
Santo Domingo.
Right where we are.
No tunnels in sight but the conditions fit, don't they?
Conversation goes back and forth, I join in after my eyes start growing dull from watching the blasts of water waves hitting our windows as we drive down the unstable roads.
We laugh shortly after my aunt tells the story. By no means were we laughing directly at the story.
But it sure seemed that way.
Another swift turn, more driving, more stopping.
Now we're literally two minutes away from our destination.
“I'm gonna take this shortcut.” My cousin speaks.
“That... looks really flooded.” I cut in, looking over his shoulder.
“Naah, it's not. It only looks that way.”
He informed me very knowingly. And you know what? Silently, I agreed. The water didn't look steep, in fact, scattered areas looked like the street itself, uncovered by water.
Oh, illusion of light, how clever you are.
He drives further in, the road curves into a corner before straightening, I could see it.
My mom nervously speaks out, telling him to turn around.
My aunt warns him and tells him the same.
My cousin just acts like nothing will happen.
Then a deep 'clunking' sound reaches our ears and suddenly the car starts... floating?
Don't ask me how that's possible and really I could care less.
All that I focused on was how the car just stopped, how it seemed to 'feel' as if the car lifted up.
“Shi--! O-okay, we'll just stay here!” The cousin, who tries to rev the car on.
“You idiot! We told you to turn around! But noooo, you just had to keep going!” The aunt, who is hitting the cousin, her son, on the head with her purse.
“A-are you sure it's safe with us in here? No water will get in?” My mom, who can't swim.
“Water is getting in.” Me, who somehow says this with a twinge of laughter at the back of my throat.
And how I immediately opened the door to my side as soon as I felt a bubble rising from beneath my feet.
Fortunately, my cousin, my aunt and I opened our doors before the car locks could kick in and before the pressure of the water could really diminish our chance of escape.
My mom, however, could not open her door.
She was scared and didn't move.
She froze.
I did hear her screams and cries as she pulled the seatbelt away and scrambled to get out.
My aunt had gotten out from the other side and was now struggling against the strong currents along the road.
I got out just as my cousin pulled my mom from her seat, forcing her out of the car thankfully.
If he hadn't done that, her fear would have kept her there and... who knows.
The water easily reached our waists as we walked against the currents.
But I stopped.
Why?
Laugh at me for this, I beg you to because even I can't explain why I did this.
I went back to the car and throughout all the madness that was happening something popped into my mind.
My cousins laptop.
I made it just in time before the door could shut close and quickly grabbed the briefcase with said laptop and made my way to join the others on 'higher ground'.
A laptop, honestly.
Needless to say we were soaked from head to toe, standing underneath a sheltered part of an old rundown office building.
Mind you. This was not a good neighborhood, but honestly, that was the last thing on our minds.
My aunt managed to call for help in the form of my step-dad and other cousin who were at our destination.
A security guard, or watch man as they call them there, approached us moments later and—a little info on this: Many, many buildings... almost all of them have watch men.
It is also quite common for them to be, out in the open, holding a gun. This one so happened to be holding an AK-47.
Again, needless to say, I was even more terrified, not having been informed of that being quite... um... normal and honestly it is.
I guess I just haven't been paying much attention till right now at, lets say, two thirty in the morning...
While the only part of the rented car that was showing was the roof.
I could faintly see the headlights blinking on and off, circuitry falling helplessly to the ravaging waters.
Help came minutes later, my step-dad and my other cousin were walking along the water, trying not to fall over.
How they helped when they themselves seemed to be in the same situation as us? Well... they provided support and led us along the waters as the watch man waved his AK-47 at us in goodbye.
My Mom was surprisingly ahead of us, sprinting along the water like a madman as she clutched her purse tightly. Guess her fear had made an escape.
Or maybe it was the fact that she remembered that she was carrying all of our passports in her bag and if they got ruined... well, the rest is history.
By the way, we had to be careful even as we were trying to hurry. Why? The roads are littered with potholes, many of them so big you could fit your whole body into them and right now they were acting like vacuums.
All of my things survived, even my cellphone. My book was only ruined by some pages, the Stitch plush was soaked but nothing a little bit of hair dryer couldn't fix and my handbag was good as well.
And that was that. We made it home safely, as safe as can be really, and managed to fill the apartment with water from our clothes as we went in.
The passports were safe as my mom waved them above her head in triumph.
My step-dad and cousin, not the one who was driving, the other one, went off to the fire station that was literally about two minutes from where we had been.
It wasn't a fire station like those you might imagine.... no, it was far from it. It was, literally put, a dim concrete-like shack. When they came back from their visit to the brave heroes, I just couldn't believe it.
Apparently the fire fighters had been sleeping, they came out in their pajamas and shrugged when asked if they knew of that road and why they hadn't blocked if off as was law. They were told how our car was roof-top deep in water and how we almost drowned.
They shrugged again. Some of them going back to sleep in their cots.
Yes, they shrugged sleepily. They did this all the while standing ankle-deep in water themselves.
I love the Dominican Republic, the beautiful beaches, the people, the food, everything. But some things, like many, have gotten very bad there.
Ah, but that would be for another story.
In the end, our disaster came on in the news the next morning thanks to the connections my aunt had with a news anchor team. It brought to light how the people who are there, to help you in your time of need, simply didn't care.
And this happens every day over there, not the drowning, but the lack of safety. The drownings itself has happened every time a storm comes in, from one to several.
Even then no development of fixing those roads have been done.
As I was trying to dry my hair with a towel, I felt happy and even laughed. But just as soon as that wave of emotion hit me, another one did.
I cried my heart out because I could have died back there.
I mostly cried because not only could I have died, my mom could have died, my aunt, my cousin and even my step-dad and other cousin could have lost their life as well.
I cried as I thought back on that family in that van in that tunnel and a scary image of my own family replaced that one. One of my family and I getting robbed while we stare into nothing.
The thought horrified me. The chills I felt from the air conditioning were nothing from the ones I felt from that image in my head.
All of it only taught me further to live every single day of my life, because in seconds it could all be gone before you know it.
I turned the television on, landing on Cartoon Network as I heard my family talking about what had happened in the living room. My cousin was trying to reach the rent car company to report what had happened foremost, obviously they weren't going to be open at three in the morning.
Least he tried I guess.
My eyes lock onto the Spanish-version of the Powerpuff Girls, giving the hundreth chuckle at the fact that the title was ten-times longer in Spanish than it was in English. I then idly thought at how I had just gone through my third near-death experience in my life.
Lucky number three.
As I saw the cartoon going on, my mind droned out for a bit, letting the half-soaked towel lie on my shoulders as I sat on the bed.
It was Sunday, technically Monday now as I glanced over at the clock on the wall by the door.
Sunday, the day we arrived to the Dominican Republic on a sweltering hot day.
The day in which our plane almost crashed.
The day in which we almost drowned in a rented car.
The day in which a man stood by me with an AK-47 while I held a water-filled laptop in my hands.
Count this as the first day of our 'trip' and we were going to be staying two weeks.
I laid down, watching Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup fight Mojo-Jojo. Again I'm content and happy. I did not fight the urge to roll around on the bed like a mad person and proceed to jump on it.
There was just one little thing on the back of my mind though as I got into insane-mode.
Agree with me on this if you will.
But I think this is just the beginning of some unfortunate events.
In the meantime, why don't I tell you of other things? Sorry to say they don't get happier and may very well get worse. We'll have to take a step back in time however and that will have to wait for the next story.
Critique is welcome, both good and bad. I can take it D:! -cuelamebattlecry- Critique is always gewd
Again, I know the story isn't detailed and I apologize. Also the dialogue was in Spanish and I tried my best to fully translate it as close to the original.Thank you very much for taking the time to read this, to those who comment and to those who don't as well.
D
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