This is my finished stor, however it is a first draft and so i may make some changes. The reason for the full stops in certain words is because, since i am still in school, the school server will not let you type these words (it will ban you, lol) Once again comments and tips are welcome.
He shivered violently as the freezing winter water ran down his back. Looking behind him, he noticed he hadn't really covered much ground. Snow was everywhere and the trees of the forest that surrounded him where whispering quietly. Wendell Dawson was a seventeen year old average kid, although he hated to be called one, which was just coming back from a holiday camp. The busses for some reason or another had broken down and being as impulsive as he is, he decided to walk. A car passed and made fresh tracks in the white dust so that he could see the black of the Tarmac. He continued walking, preoccupied with his own thoughts. He didn't notice as a car pulled up beside him and he didn't notice as the driver rolled down the window, however he did notice when the driver shouted at the top of his lungs "Hey mister! You need a lift?" In fact, he gave a startled cry.
'Yeah, sure.' Wendell replied. He dived into the car escaping from the cold and very wet day. Although it didn't seem like it, he had been desperate for someone to stop and offer him a lift; however he was too nervous to stick out his thumb. He was afraid that some weirdo would pick him up. Even if that is what he got anyway. 'What's your name and where are you headed?' asked the driver.
'W-w-w-Wendell, W-Wendell Dawson and I'm going to, eh-eh- Edinburgh.'
'Got a slight stutter there Mac. That's a long way to be travelling mister and i can't even take you half the distance, I'm just headed past Carlisle myself. Why the heck are you hitching all the way to Edinburgh from here?' The car gave a slight lurch as it set off.
'It's a long story.' Sighed Wendell
'Well c'mon son i got time, and i am pretty sure you do to.' Smiled the driver
'My name's Carl, Carl Farbrook.' The gruesome stickiness of his Yankee accent was extremely annoying and was a sledge hammer on the head every time he breathed a word. He looked like he was in his fifties and the grey hair more than proved this fact.
'Well thanks C-c-Carl for the lift, it really does help.'
'Not a bother.' Carl replied still smiling. Wendell looked out of the window for a while, taking in the scenery of the countryside. It was extremely boring. Flat white everywhere. It had absolutely no character whatsoever. It was nothing like the highland and islands of Scotland where the jagged rocks jutted out of the ground. He had dosed of when Carl spoke again. 'So you know of any good jokes? I have a few good ones, would you like to here them?'
Wendell could tell he was just trying to get a conversation going and he felt like ripping out his tongue and slapping him with it for waking him up however, just to be polite. 'Yeah, sure...'
'Right, okay then.' He had just spoken the first line of the joke, and Wendell could tell it was going to be really bad. He personally thought that the best jokes where the unintentional ones. Not the jokes that where thought up by bald old men in their basements and then posted onto their crappy blogs somewhere on the vast plains of the internet super highway. When, luckily, he never got to hear the joke, at that moment Carl ran over a pheasant and after swearing loudly he decided that he should maybe concentrate on the road. He stayed silent for a quite a while.
'Hey, there is a small town coming up. Would you like to stop there for a while and get something to eat?' Asked Carl, being careful not to take his eyes off the road.
'Yeah, that sounds pretty good.' Wendell was extremely thankful for this as he desperately needed the toilet, as in, he was just about to ask him to pull over so that he could go al fresco. The car whined through the streets of the small town and came to a rather sudden stop outside a large hotel, it seemed a little out of proportion when you looked at the rest of the town. Just as Wendell had taken of his seat belt, Carl accelerated forwards and hammered on the break causing Wendell to come flying forwards. Resulting in a dull thud that echoed throughout the car and while Wendell was rubbing his forehead furiously, Carl was simply chuckling. 'Got you there mate!' Wendell felt like he was boiling over. It was the most annoying thing that anyone had ever done to him. He was imagining Carl looking over a cliff with himself behind him, holding a baseball bat. 'Jerk.' he mumbled under his breath. As he was getting out the car, muttering obscene things under his breath, a woman came over to him. She looked as though she had been hit by a bull and then a lorry and then a ten ton wrecking ball. She had the facial expression of a stone statue. 'Excuse me. Do you know where the bakery is? I don't live here and i can't find my way around.' She had an extremely high pitched voice that could make your teeth crack and it got even higher at the end of every sentence she spoke, as if she was constantly asking a question. She had bright, bright blonde hair and very dark emerald eyes. She had this look of an art fanatic, either that or she simply had a very weird sense in clothes. She was wearing a bright orange and green top accompanied by a dark yellow skirt. She-was-a-wacko. 'Erm, actually I-I do.' Although Wendell had never been to this town before, it was kind of obvious where the bakery was. He pointed directly behind the woman. 'Oh my, I'm sorry. I didn't see it there.' With that blank expression on her face , a bit like the face a moth would make when it sees a bright light, she turned around and walked straight into the glass door of the bakery. 'Ouch.' She yelped. Wendell was now trying very hard to stifle a laugh and luckily she had shuffled inside the store before he had started laughing out loud. He smiled then, she had really cheered him up.
As Wendell was walking back to the car Carl ran into him. ‘Hey! Hey Wendell. I have some bad news, there was an accident at my work and I need to go back the way we came from.’
‘Oh, that’s alright. I-I-I can just keep walking until I find someone else that’s w-w-willing to give me a lift.’ Wendell however was singing hallelujah, he was thinking of just ditching Carl but if there was one thing Wendell was a stickler for, it was manners.
‘I am really sorry mate.’ You could tell that Carl was really upset over this, however Wendell was really overjoyed. He could only think of a few moments that he had been happier, such as: When he lost his v.irginity, when his parents finally realised that they should just leave him alone and the first time he got d.runk -which was the first time he got l.aid as well-.
‘Well thank you for everything.’ Said Wendell with a smile
‘I am really sorry but I better get going.’ Said a muffled Carl clamouring into is corvette rather calmly.
He shivered violently as the freezing winter water ran down his back. Looking behind him, he noticed he hadn't really covered much ground. He didn’t notice as the car pulled up beside him.
‘Excuse me would you like a lift?’ Asked a very high pitched voice. Wendell turned to his right and recognised the bright orange and green top. He smiled, he knew this was going to be a fun car journey.