Things to Run Away From Really Fast

Alone. Bus trip. Ferry ride.

I've found myself on a road trip with my brother, mom, and dad, in our old Ford Truck. It's rather cramped. I have my laptop-sized bookbag with me, and it's stuffed in with me in the back seat.

I hassle my dad to stop at the Husky/Tim Horton's along the road, and am surprised when he relents. I go inside and say "Hi" to the person at the counter. For some reason, I'm surprised I don't recognize her. I have to step in behind the counter a bit to get a look at the donuts and bagels, and I happily choose one with purple icing and rainbow sprinkles. I count through my pocket chane; I've already used my debit card (and I recall swiping an identical one before realizing it wasn't mine). I ask what my total comes to. I have to ask a few times, because I can't understand her and the number above the register keeps changing. Also, I only have about 75 cents.

Finally, she tells me that the price is 9 cents plus tax, so I should just give her a dime. I thank her and take my brown paper bag, heading to the car.

"Sorry I took so long," I say, knowing full well we won't be stopping for a while now. I open my bag to find three donuts and a pack of gushers. Weird. I start in on the gushers, deciding that junk food is the point of a road trip anyway and it's hard to find vegetarian stuff at all fast food restaurants.

We're trying to figure out how to get out of town, because one of the main roads switches over regularly and we seem to be cut off at the moment. Several-point turn to get out of a dead-end. People playing in the water in the ditch ("A good way to get hepatitis," my dad notes). Asking for directions at some kind of a hunting lodge.

We drive out of town, but the road seems less like a road and more something you'd do to wreck vehicles on GTA. Driving through parkades or something. Graffiti. Stairs.

Family Vacations. Scare Meter: 2. Boring as long as you skip the horror movie casting.