The Wrong Turn

The fog has creeped upon us. Driving in silence, the car moving very slowly, I could feel something awful coming closer. I could feel it. Something massive was perked 20 feet from us. My brother, Grant, took out his glasses to see further in the fog. Dad’s smile faded. (What was it doing here?) I thought. (Well, I guess it kind of fits in.) Its bad smile was peeking through the fog. It was a massive…

The Ryder Cup. The year is 2013, and Dad, Grant, and I are going to Philadelphia for the Ryder Cup. The Ryder Cup is an event in which the Americans face the British in a 12 verses 12 golf faceoff.

“I don’t wanna go,” I said.

“Too bad, Mitchell, we are going,” Dad replied. “It will be fun,”

I pack my bags and head to the car, just waiting for the moment for dad to say the trip has been canceled. But I know in my mind it will never happen. Grant is in the car, watching his soccer games while he continuously looks out the window for dad. I decided to do one last check up before we head off. Mom isn’t there, already headed off to her 9:00 showing appointment with her client. She works in the field of real estate.

“Dad, where is Cooper,” I ask.

“He is already in this kennel. Mom will look after him while we are gone,”

I get back in the car, and dad follows me. I see that he is wearing his casual khakis and a green golf shirt. His loafers are the same boring brown that I have. I yet again get in the silver car and fall into slumber, waiting to get to the hotel.

I had a rough time falling asleep over all the cars honking and the British soccer commentators screaming because someone made a goal. I saw we were on the highway before I finally fell asleep.

I awoke at a red light. The sun was blocked by some clouds. It was foggy outside. I could see the GPS on dad’s phone telling us where to go. It said to go right.

“Dad, why are you in the lane going to the left?” Grant asks.

“I don’t trust the GPS,”

“Dad, the GPS is always right, and you are never right,” Grant sais with a bit more anger in his voice than I would’ve liked.

“No,”

“Dad, I think Grant is right,” I join in.

“See, look, dad. Even Mitchell is agreeing with me and we never agree with anything,”

“I know where we are going,”

“Dad, shut up. You are so unbelievably stupid. What part of this do you not understand? If the GPS said go right, then go right,”

Dad looks at me and laughs.

“Guys look. I am older than both of you and I am driving this car and I have been on these roads before and I know where we are going,” he said calmly.

“I am going left,”

A few minutes later we end up in a place a bit less friendly that we would’ve liked.

It was like the world transformed into a dark place. As we drive upon the rows of sketchy houses and dead plants, I can see that we all had… blank expressions. I really didn’t know what to think. I could feel the warm breeze of the AC against my normally cold hands and feet. It felt like I was in a pirate movie; the houses all looked the same as if it were the lost sea. Wait. that also means that something scary and creepy was coming up. And it was coming up fast.

“Look where we are now dad,” Grant whines.  “It is all your fault,”

“Hey, at least we are all together,” dad said, trying to cheer us up.

“No, dad, this happens every time we go on a road trip,”

Dad chuckles. But that is when I see it. We all see it. The house that is different from the rest. The shipwreck in a pirate movie. A door. (Ha! A door. Funny, right? Not so funny though…)

The door. Had something written on it. In blood. It said, WATCH OUT, GET OUT.

“Ummm. What do we do?” Grant asks us.

I couldn’t really move. Like I was paralyzed. Dad drives the car closer to the door so we can really get a good look at it. The windows on the house were boarded up.  But, right then and there the car exploded with laughter. We all thought this was a good joke.

“Grant, do you want to go outside and get a closer look?” Dad asked.

“Ok, dad. Why would I go out there? I am not stupid,”

Dad chuckles.

“Dad, let’s get out of here,” I said.

We continue driving along the lost sea of houses. It was getting pretty boring after a while. It was about 1 o’clock, and I was hungry. I wanted to get out of this mess. It was driving me nuts. But, there it was again. The feeling of being scared for no reason. Unless there was a reason. A movie can’t just end with one boss, can it? Huh.

It was getting more foggy outside. I was just hoping for the wrong to be over. (Wait. What is that in the distance?) We were creeping up on it. It seemed to glow through the fog. It was like 1,000 lumens of light shining in my face. Dad turned the corner. It was right there. Hiding. Hiding and finding a way to shock people with its bloodcurdling empty sockets. I could barely see it through all the luggage in the back of the car. Grant and Dad has to have seen it by now. But I couldn’t see what it was. I had to get out of this trans. I HAD TO!

“You okay there Mitch?” Dad asks. “It looks like you got possessed by a demon.”

I blink. “Ya, I guess,” (Why isn’t it glowing anymore?)

I could see it now. The eyes of terror. Ugly mouth. Grant took out his phone with his blue case and started taking pictures of it. It felt so empty. And scary. Don’t forget scary. The.. thing. Was a skull.

“Dad, i’m afraid. Can we go now?” I shakingly claimed. “I’m also really hungry,”

“Yea, dad. Why don’t we get food?” Grant said, sarcastically.

“Sure! Getting out of this place is probably for the better,”

“Where is the lunch spot?” I asked.

“It should be a few minutes from here. Just need to follow the GPS,” Dad confirmed.

“Well, look at that. Dad knows what he is doing. Because this is how roadtrips are supposed to go.”

If there was anything that I have learned from these dumb experiences with dad, it is that to be prepared for the wrong.