Her 18th Birthday-Grocer and Writer (Young Lady’s Perspective)

It’s so cold tonight, but at least it is dry. That’s all right because I will soon be in the arms of someone who can keep me warm. Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday and I will be moving in with the one I am so deeply in love with. He’ll be getting off of work soon, so I’ll wait for him on my parents’ driveway. Minutes seem like hours, but finally here comes that old Toyota. I shiver as the headlights shine on me. He parks the car, then steps out and we embrace.

“Let’s get you warm,” He tells me.

“Good idea!” I reply as my teeth chatter.

With that, he opens the passenger door for me and I step in. He then enters on the driver’s side.

Quietly we ride out of the suburbs.

There is a peaceful silence, but then he tells me, “I know what tomorrow is!”

“Yes, I’ll be free! My parents’ll no longer have power over me!” I say with glee.

“Now you know your dad is good to us,” He tells me truthfully.

I then reply, “Yes, he is. But my mom is a lunatic. No longer will I hear her raging about her stupid pills again.”

“Do they know that we’ve been intimate?” He soberly asks.

“No, they don’t-and that is a good thing. It won’t even matter after the stroke of midnight.” I wish he didn’t have to worry about consequences for only loving me. This is the main reason why I am so happy to be able to live with him now.

“That’s a relief. I know your dad likes me, but how he would react if he knew?”

“Well, I can make him feel guilty about not being around if he indeed got angry.”

We are now going through the city and turning into his run-down neighborhood. I don’t mind living here because it means I get to live with someone who loves me for me and loves me tremendously.

Now we are in front of his house. He parks the car against the curb, then opens the door for me. I step out and we enter through his gate. He escorts me across his front yard. The neighbors are rolling and smoking joints. We both hate the smell of that smoke, so hurriedly we go inside, not wanting the neighbors to make trouble with us. Because we don’t trust these neighbors, my boyfriend installed several extra locks on his doors and he also bought me some Mace, for when I am home alone. My God, I hope I never have to use it.

We sit on the sofa and my boyfriend turns the news on. The reporter tells of the whole country is on high alert for a terrorist attack. My boyfriend is genuinely afraid of being drafted and it shows by the way I see him shudder.

So I tell him, “Let’s turn this miserable thing off and think about us!”

“Very well.” He says, switches off the TV, then continues, “Would you like to eat something?”


“I will order something for delivery. What do you feel like?”

“Something Asian, I guess.”


He begins looking through the phone book, so I pull out my smartphone and say, “Wait, I have an app for ordering it on here.”

I place the order then we sit on the sofa and wait. I rest my head on his chest. Oh, how I feel so blissful in that position.

Soon enough, there is a knock at the door. It’s the delivery man. My boyfriend pays him, then escorts him to his car.

When he comes back in, we take the food to the dining room and eat. We both shiver, so my boyfriend turns his heater on.

He sweetly smiles at me as he watches me eat. I feel like such a pig, but he loves me, even though I am so fat. Where has he been all my life?

Soon we are full and I am sleepy.

So, I tell him, “Asian food makes me sleepy. Let’s snuggle together!”

“Right behind you, baby!” He replies.

We both go to his bed and wrap up in the blankets together. I feel so content. What could ruin this wonderful moment?

Peacefully we fall asleep in each others’ arms.

Suddenly we are woken up by a train whistle.

I look at the clock on my smartphone. It’s 12:01 AM.

“I am eighteen now!” I exclaim, wrapping my arms and legs around him.

Suddenly we hear these awful grinding and squealing noises then some loud explosions.

Now everything is eerily quiet.

My boyfriend tries turning on his bedside lamp, but it doesn’t come on. The power must be out.

I light up the room with my smartphone.

“Let me go to the kitchen. I have a rechargeable flashlight there plugged in between the refrigerator and the stove,” My boyfriend says.

“Go get it, but after let’s keep snuggling.”

“Of course. You know I don’t want to be anywhere but in your arms.” He tells me, retrieves his light then climbs back into bed.

I rub his chest and say, “We can stay together now because I am legal!”

Both of our phones then receive alerts about a civil emergency.

A few minutes later there is a knock on the door. My boyfriend answers it.

A policeman greets him and sternly says “You must leave immediately! There has been a train derailment which resulted in a chemical release.”

Back to “My [Non-Offensive] “Grocer and Writer” Pieces”


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