Just 12 Years Of Life

Go Karting

Now, before I write Playground part 2, I wanna tell you all abput my day of go Karting. And it os spelt with a k and not a c. That's according to the signboard. It's 1am right now, and the hyper-realistic four eyed Peppa pig could crawl from umner my bed and devour me in less than five seconds, but I'll still write this. Why? Because the thrill hasn't left me and I can't sit tight. So here we go!

First, we start the day. Getting in trouble would be 70% of my mornimg so that's all I'll tell you. But the 30% is made of deppression, coffee, and being scared. Then we went to a mall to go Kart with my childhood friend. Her name's Falln. Which is my middle name. Heather Falln Lynn, that's me! Or otherwise called Hattie by my cousins. And when we got there, Unbridge needed the toilet. Which she just went to 5 minutes ago. I think she has bladder problems, but until she goes to the toilet every 2 minutes like she has explosive diharrea, she's fine.

So we went through the breifing, and I was just able to drive by myself. I'm 153cm tall, and the minimum was 150 so luckily I didn't have to go with my mom. She crashed 5 times, according to my dad. And I got into this small blue cart and I immediately tried steering. And it was really heavy, not so heavy as I couldn't turn it, but you need to use some muscle for it.

Then the workers came round and one gave me a sort of booster seat. I don't know, but it made me taller and I could see better, so I'm not complaining. And it was softer than the actual seat so that's another plus. The people waved the flag and we were off! The second I pressed on the accelorator, I could feel the warm engine come alive and I shot off like a rocket. The adrenaline, the wind, the vibrations of the kart, everything, thrilled me. I stepped on the brake a bit at the turn and someone overtook me. I decided a long time ago that since it's my first time, I won't race too much.

My only competion today was my mother. And she was driving Umbridge who was had only three expressions through the entire race. Sheer terror, chill bro, and 'Agh! We crashed again!'. I don't know what that expression it was, but I was it clearly when they crashed and I passed them.  Bit back to my drive, sharp turns we're my favorite parts of the corse. I needed to press the gas, but I love when the back wheels got swung into the direction I wanted it to. But I also loved the straight bits, they allowed me to hit the gas. No worried of skidding or drifting. Just speeding.

I'm trying to think of how to describe the thrills of the race, but the only thing I can think of is that it's basically a natural sense killer. You can't sense anything, not the smell of the helmets, not the screams of anyone, not the swearing of the other drivers, not the calls of the instructors. Just the engine, wind, and the tilt of each turn and brake you make. Not to mention the resistance of the wheel. No gloves by the way, just skin and plastic. After a while, you get a bit nauseous, or dizzy but I think it's all in the adrenaline. My neighbor goes for classes to race like this, and now I know why.

You won't know until ypu go yourself. We don't go particularily fast, but fast enougj to get 13 laps in 10 minutes and get 3rd last. Honestly, 13 in 10 isn't very fast, but you need to know that I didn't really want to win that time. I was too focused on not crashing and not killing anybody. If I died in that race I don't care. But if I kill someone, I'll have to go to Juvinille jail and that could very possibly ruin my clean record of never breaking any laws in Malaysia. So that's not gonna happen.

I remeber thinking, word of word, 'If I die here, I don't give a f**k! Hell yeah!' And If my mom's reading this right now, I can imagine the look of Bruh plastered all over her face. Or maybe disapointment. But anyways, when I skid, my blood ran cold. When you read that in a book, you probably think, how does that feel? Well, not really like you would imagine it to be. It's like god drained all of your blood out, but it into a bag, dunked it into a bucket of ice, stuffed the blood back into your body, then shoved you into the microwave to defrost again. Which happens in less than a second. It doesn't linger, or hang around for a while to grab a drink. Like a jumpscare, but one that replaces the terror with adrenaline.

Complicated, but it can't really be explained. But when I did it, I knew that I could've been a charaxter in a book and that page od my life would have thag very phrase in it. Otherwise, the book would have missed some cucial information. By the end of the 10 minutes, I'd come in 5th of 7 people, could barely stand, still had blood chugging energy drinks, and a very happy face. What can I say? It was fun.

I wanted to go again, but we had to go to dinner.