The Car That Kills

Aruni GuptaNovember 14, 2019

My locker is like all the rest at the end of a long row of lockers,
I see my entire grade as I walk to it every morning and passing period.
As I’m walking, I think about a lot of things.
What class do I have next?
Do I have any missing assignments?
How long until my friends get here?
When’s lunch?
Then I see her,


Like a slow-motion car crash
As she turns the corner from the staircase.
Shivers run down my back —
The bad kind when you feel unsafe.
That’s exactly how I feel,
I try to shake it off, I try to forget, I try to let it go, I try.

But the thing I see and re-imagine and relive is how unwelcome and Alone I really feel.
Seeing her face every day reminds me of the terrible things she says.
The way she acts as if she's better than everyone else.
It’s like there is no escape.
It’s my seat belt I can’t get out of, the one thing that is supposed to keep Me safe —
That won’t let go
Won’t let me leave.
As she drowns out the world,
The world is drowning me.
The car that kills.

Aruni Gupta is a 12-year-old sixth-grade student at Seattle Girls’ School and enjoys learning and bonding with friends. She is a soccer player, social justice advocate, and activist. She also likes to hang out with her friends and watch scary, sad, and Kevin Hart movies. During the fall and winter, she likes to play soccer and try not to get injured (doesn’t always work out). But what she loves most of all is to watch football with her mom (they yell at the TV a lot). Aruni and her mom always try to predict who is going to the Super Bowl; her mom is usually right about who wins. But when it’s World Cup time, Aruni is always right about who wins.