Old Beat Up Van Narrative

The poignant feeling of anticipation and excitement enthused us as we piled into Grandpa’s old beat up van. A sense of invincibility enveloped us as we started our twelve hour trek to Branson, Missouri. This serenity soon shattered when Luke began to throw up all over my seat. I sat horrified, trapped by the luggage in front of me. “Stop the van!” I screamed. Covered in bright pink Double Bubble puke, I bolted from the vehicle. I had tried to warn Luke earlier, but he did not listen. As the twentieth piece entered his mouth, my predictions turned into reality. After the ordeal, we cleaned up, loaded into the van, and started our journey once again.

After arriving at the hotel, another incident occurred. Luke and I awaited with eagerness