I hate this neighborhood. There are only ten houses and only three kids out of the whole street. This includes me, the only girl out of the three kids who live on Hampton Street. Since the boys are always gone somewhere I am stuck again. Stuck to use my imagination to pretend I’m actually having as much fun as they are probably having.

Today is Barbie’s birthday and she wants to take Kristina out for a ride in her new pink convertible. They’re driving down Route 66 listening to their owner’s favorite song, “California”.

“We’ve been on the run, driving in the sun looking out for number one. California here we come right back where we started from . . . “

The winds began to quicken and the clouds set in with thunderous rainfall. Suddenly, the pink car hydroplaned into a ditch sinking deep into a muddy lake. They yelled for help when a landslide enveloped them into a mud cocoon. Lucky for them this created an air bubble that could provide them with enough oxygen to survive for years.

I was having fun filling the mud puddle up with water in my mini lake of a driveway. However, my mother called me inside for dinner. I left Barbie and Kristina to fend for themselves. They had plenty of food in the car since they had no idea how long their trip was going to be, they just wanted to keep driving. I left them in that air bubble for two years, just as Kristina and Barbie were deciding if they should start eating each other. The food had just run out they had no idea how long they were encased in this murky coffin, but they knew they wanted out.

Then the trumpets started playing, they knew they were about to see God as a light came from above. I had finally decided to take them out of their muddy coffin. I carefully washed them and put them back on the road. Hoping never to return to the unpredictable Route 66.