Impression of a MemoryThere are certain events in life that leave behind a mental residue. Whether they are fragmented images or the duration of the event as a whole, they are important enough to be etched into the cerebral cortex, allowing the mind to revisit them. Deep in my mind is a very specific memory that stands out among all the others I have collected throughout my life. This memory is more recent than most since it takes place during the scorching summer of 2015. My boyfriend, Sean, had gone to Arizona for advanced training for the U.S. Army, and I had gone to me in Boston, I spent a lot of time with him. his father Pat and his brother Mike. Not having a family of my own, I bonded a lot with Sean's family during this time, while maintaining a protective front. After growing up in the toxicity of a physically, mentally, and emotionally abusive household, I didn't trust many people, especially older men. And it wasn't until a sunny afternoon, during a routine driving lesson, that things changed. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay “Take a left here. I've never gone this route before. » I looked nervously at Pat as I heard him say this from the passenger seat, but I followed his instructions, trusting his judgment. Driving made me nervous. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up and every aching muscle in my body tightening to the point where they cramped every time I got behind the wheel. Being at the controls of a four-thousand-pound metal racing machine on wheels was enough to turn my twenty-year-old hair gray. But helping me get my license was something Pat desperately wanted to do, and even though the unease in my stomach protested, I wanted to let him help me. I loved having a reason to see it every week and I loved having something to bond over. I cut the steering wheel to the left, my hand trembling, and began to slowly increase pressure on the accelerator as the Toyota steadily climbed an incline. The trees began to thicken on either side of the asphalt and the houses completely disappeared in all directions. By the time we reached the top of this intimidating mountain, we were completely overwhelmed by the woods. I slowed the car to a near stop while staring at the curved slope in front of me. My eyes must have been the size of dinner plates, because Mike's voice sounded behind me: "You're doing great." You don't have to slow down that much. I nodded shyly, letting the anxiety rise from my heart to my fingertips, tightening them on the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. There was no queue on the road. Most of the back roads around Millis didn't have them, and this particular road was far too narrow to divide. Taking a deep breath, I began the descent down the vine-like path, picking up a little speed as the small oak bridge beckoned us from below. We were almost safe, at the edge of the bridge, when the white jeep flew over the corner. The oncoming vehicle did not stop and did not even reduce its effort. The sound of wooden planks clashing rushed through my open window as the four-wheeled demon ran over it angrily, now angled so that the front bumper was hurtling straight toward the center point between my headlights . My chest felt like the tight spiral., 121(3), 331-354.