Carly calls it a race car. Which it is, but Red is so much more than that. He's like a child to us. One that we have to get rid of. And it pains us deeply.
This story started a year ago I killed my little green Elantra. As result of my horrible deed I ended up with the flaming car as my main mode of transportation. When I was informed that that thing was going to be mine I was mortified. MORTIFIED. The paint job was going to be so embarrassing. I swore that the paint was going to be the first thing that I changed. It wasn’t. I pulled my stereo out of my old car and my dad installed it for me into Red Dragon. Yes that is the car’s name.
Red was trashed when I first got him. I went to car salvage yards with my dad and picked old cars apart for pieces to add to my new eye sore. Red was finally up and running and cleaned, and he was fast. Oh, he is very fast.
Brett got home from his mission mid May. We had talked on the phone for the first time in forever and I had informed him on my new car. A few days later we were both driving on Dobson road and we saw each other for the first time in two years. I was driving my flaming car and he saw me five hundred miles away.
Man, we are seriously going to miss driving around in that beast. Never again are we going to own a car that cool.
I’ve decided that I do not ever want to be a mechanic. I’ve gotten so gross and dirty working on that car. Anyways. Red, Brett and Chesca love you!
