Last night wasn't like any other night.
After my boring outing, when all the aunties went home, me and Dad went to pick Kisha up in Vivo City(it's a huge and marvelous shopping centre in Singapore). After we took some wrong turns and misleading signs we found her and hopped on the car, where my Dad had to scour the whole carpark to look for it.
Then Kisha wanted to see some apartments that are for rent. And blahblahblah. When we were reversing out of the place, remember it's nighttime, I said it was clear on both sides(I was in the backseat), while my Dad was reversing to the other lane, kind of fast for some god-knows-what reason, and Kisha was blabbering about how her friends could share the apartment, right there some crazy motorcyclist just appeared out of nowhere--speeding; in two blinks he was already about to ram into us. It looked like death was on our side.
In any situation like this, the most likely state you'd be in your memoir or slice of life would be: I froze. And frozen I was. During my frozen moment, Kisha shrieked, " Oh my god Dad slow down! AHHH!" I braced myself for a big craaash sound. But all I heard was silence.
By the time I opened my eyes the freaking motor bike guy was already accelerating toward the darkness and our car was left under the moonlit sky to reverse to the other lane all over again. After that terrifying moment of fatality, we drove off with Dad cursing the guy, Kisha imagining if it would have crashed, her face would need surgery and she would be out for a semester in university (her face is her number one priority), and me wondering why I didn't say anything.
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