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It was the same old deal, every single summer. My mom would plan a “great family vacation.” This vacation always seemed to consist of the same people, same activities, and the same old beach. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a nice escape, away from the quiet hushed suburb that I live in. Unfortunately, this one escape that I get to embark on once a year has become more of an uneventful routine than anything else.
First comes the part of the trip that I dread the most. It’s the car ride. My whole family all crushed into an average sized car isn’t quite the place I would prefer to be in. Driving with his sunglasses on, that would be my step-dad. Right next to him would be my mother, already applying her sun lotion, although we still have more than an hour left of the drive. To my left would be my thirteen year old brother Adam, reading a comic book that I gave him long ago. To my right is my other brother Mark, he’s sixteen, just looking out the window trying to take a shot of the landscape outside with his camera. I don’t really complain too much about anything, I deal with whatever I have to deal with. Of course I, Paul, always get stuck in the middle seat, which is without a doubt the most uncomfortable place to sit. While my brothers have their own pastimes to keep them busy, I always seem to be the one cramped in the middle with nothing to do but ponder about anything there is to think about.
Following behind us in a quite miniature two-door car is my stepsister Danielle and her friend Michelle. Like I said, I don’t kick and scream about anything, but having someone I don’t know living where I am for a week sort of bothers me. If she is not half the pain Danielle is, I believe I’ll be able to cope, and possibly survive.
My mom owns a beach house only a block away from the shore. I get out of the car and first thing I feel is the remarkable refreshing breeze. It’s a cool breeze. As I took a deep breath, I...