Reviews:

Muirgen79: It's a shame really, but it runs like that in my family. I figured I could use it here, too. It doesn't matter who's the bad guy, it's always a girl's fault.

Alice Gone Madd: You're about to find out!

ManyGamePlayer: Thank you! :)

SilverZelenia: I know right! The cops were totally... not cops. It's like Bay wasn't even trying, but ah well. If I had telekinesis, that would be the best thing since toilet paper!

Angel of Randomosity: Ba-dumm-tsh.

Valkyrie 497: Yep, dad's pissed and Bee's a jerk. But he has to be! Yes, I can't wait for the update!

Chapter 6: Something Special In Both Of Us

"What? Why me?" I asked.

"For that little scene at the police station and for talking back to the officer!" Dad chided.

"But I didn't do anything wrong! You saw the way he was treating Sam!" I stood my ground.

"This isn't about Sam." Dad sad resignedly and disappointingly. "This is about you not knowing how to act properly."

"I didn't go chasing a car that 'just stood up'. Why aren't you yelling at Sam, then? He's the one that got into trouble with the police in the first place!"

"Because, Sam is different than you, Nicole."

I wanted to keep on fighting, I really did. But that 'Sam is different than you' stung me like a bee's sting. It stung so bad at my heart. Of course Sam was different than me. Everyone was different from me. They weren't gifted with what I have, and they don't have to face consequences because of it.

I shut up then and there. I couldn't believe that my own father would say this out loud. I always knew it bothered them, both of my parents, but this was just way too goddamn made me feel unwanted. Like I wasn't good enough to be considered for his child.

Silence struck the inside of the hunter green colored Austin, not a word shared after that. Nonetheless, the atmosphere in the car was dense and almost unbearable.

When we arrived back home, a police cruiser was parked in front of our house, and a couple of cops were standing beside it, as well. None of us really knew what was going on, but by the looks of it, it would seem that they have just arrived.

Dad parked his car on the driveway in the back of the property. We exited the car and walked towards the cops that were on the sidewalk in front of our house. "Officers?" Dad asked with Sam and I behind him.

"Ronald Willkity?" The cop said uninterestedly, looking at a small stack of papers in his hands.

"Witwicky." Dad corrected him as the cop looked at him.

"Sorry. We found your car and the keys." The officer motioned towards the old banged up yellow Camaro that was legally ours. The windows were down and as I walked to the car, I saw the key to it on the driver's seat. My eyes widened as I could feel my lips splitting into a grin. "Just sign this here and it's yours again." He handed my dad the paper files.

"What about the thief?" I asked. He looked at me.

"There were no traces of forced entry and no evidence of anybody being in the vehicle. Surely, there was someone in it because cars don't drive themselves, but there was no evidence left behind." The officer answered.

Oh well, at least we got it back. "Thank you, officer." I said as the cop nodded and soon cleared out of our driveway.

Sam and dad went back into the house as mom rushed to him mutter things like 'oh my poor baby' and other sweet words, practically cooing to her eldest child. I didn't want to go in at all, so I resolved to staying outside and gazing at the Camaro that I had almost lost forever.

Seeing as it was really early in the morning on a Sunday, around 8 in the morning probably, the sun was shining brightly and all the dirt on the Camaro could be seen quite clearly. It was a shame that we had the filthiest car in the neighborhood, courtesy of Sam off-roading just to drive Mikaela home, and the car probably being driven maniacally by the thief. And also, seeing that I didn't have anything else to do for today, I resolved to washing my car.

I walked upstairs to my room, quickly changing my clothes into a pair of denim shorts and a red tank top. I found my white flip-flops underneath my bed and I put them on, and on my short way down the stairs, I picked my hair up in a messy bun. I knew that in the backyard we kept a hose that dad would use to water his precious grass. I took the hose and turned the water on.

It came out in a high pressured spray and it was really cold water. I walked over to the front of the car and the water splashed on the hood of it as I ran the hose over the windshield, the hood and the roof and then suddenly, the car moved back.

It moved back. On its own. It was like it went in reverse without being turned on.

That's not possible.

It must have been the fact that someone didn't put the handbrake on when they were putting the Camaro in the driveway. I put the hose on the grass as the water still ran, and I opened the door. The car was unlocked and I saw the handbrake being on.

Well then what the hell is wrong with the car? I know I didn't make this all up. Maybe the handbrake doesn't work.

"Doesn't surprise me." I absently commented. After all, this piece of junk was worth only four thousand dollars, even less. In order for our dearly beloved Camaro not to go in reverse anymore, I stopped using the hose. If I used it again, the car might go backwards again and smash the fence to mom's petunias. Not what I wanted to happen. I mean, I followed the logic.

So I went back to where the hose started and turned it off. Next to the hose was mom's outdoor window cleaning kit, as she would have come to call it. I grabbed a sponge and bucket that were placed there. I prepared the mixture of soap and water and went back to the car, setting the bucked by the front right fender and I crouched, looking disdainfully at all the crap on the old yellow paint.

I took the sponge, dipped it in the mixture of soap and water and scrubbed for a very long while. I don't know how much time it took me, but the exterior was looking great. Sure, we could actually repaint the car so it didn't look as horrible as it did, but it looked great this way. Repainting the car would have to be an investment in it, though. I don't know how dad would take it, but I didn't want to think about that man.

I moved to the hood, admiring my handiwork. This Camaro didn't really look all that bad now that it was clean, but it needed repairs.

As I squinted and got closer to the hood, I thought that more rust had formed on it. Later revelation showed me that I was just some mud caked on it. I tried to get it off with the sponge, but it wouldn't budge. I took matters into my own hands, literally, as I tried to take it off with my nails. It easily got off, along with a little bit of faded yellow paint.

Maybe it was the sun beating on my head for being out here for hours, but I actually apologized to the car. "Sorry, it had to come off." I sighed as I got up from my crouching position and pushed the hair strands away from my face. This car washing job is exhausting. I got back on my feet and enveloped the car in a hug, my cheek resting on the shiny and clean hood.

"At least you're pretty." I smelled apple on the hood. The hell did I wash the car with? Must be window washing fluid with apple scent.

"Thank you, beautiful."

I could have sworn on anything I had that the car had just talked to me. "What?" Maybe someone was in the car, talking to me?

I quickly got into the car, checking every inch of it. Nobody was in it, but me now. I must have been imagining it. Yeah, the sun was definitely the bad guy in this picture.

"Over here." The radio suddenly said.

"What the hell?" I stared at the old radio, but as various thoughts of dreams coming true came to my mind, I couldn't hide my grin. I thought talking cars existed only in cartoons and books. And movies. "Are you real?"

"For real."

"Wow. I…" I was at a loss for words. For what reason, I don't know, but I actually introduced myself to my car, as odd as it sounded. "I'm Nicole." I chuckled. How cool was it to have a talking car! I closed the door as I was sitting in the driver seat. "Who are you?"

"Bumblebee." it pulled out a recording from a show, probably featuring bumblebees.

"Your name is Bumblebee?" I noticed the 'Bee-otch' on the rearview mirror again. And the fact that he was a yellow with black stripes Camaro. "Suits you quite well." I grinned. Holy hell.

"You look happy."

"Is this really happening?"

"Yep."

I have a talking car. A talking car.

Going out of the vehicle, I left the door open and saw Sam coming out of the house. #Hey Sam, we have a talk-" I heralded, but was cut off short when the Camaro's engine suddenly turned on. Sam's face paled as he stared at the car and then at me.

Then the car lunged at Sam.

Sam gave off a scream before he sprinted to mom's pink bike which was sitting on the grass innocently. "Satan's Camaro is stalking me!" Sam screamed before he pedaled quickly out of the driveway.

Then the Camaro started driving towards me with its open driver's door. As it got to me, the seatbelts suddenly flung out and enveloped me, and then pulled me into the driver's seat.

I was freaked out beyond being just freaked out.

It seemed as if the Camaro was following Sam on our mom's pink bike. Why was he doing this?

"H-Hey! Stop it! Let me out of here!" I screeched, hitting the steering wheel. The car drove on its own, making me scream in fear. "What the hell? Help! HEE-"

The seatbelt tightened slightly around me, pining me into place. "It's okay, dear! It's just me!" The radio soothed.

"How can you drive yourself?!" I freaked out, staring at the robotic face insignia at the center of the steering wheel. "Stop chasing my brother and let me out of here!"

"Calm down." Suddenly, it turned harshly to the right, getting up on the sidewalk as Sam desperately tried to get away from him. By the look on his face, he was just as freaked out as I was.

I took deep breaths. "Bumblebee, cars don't drive on sidewalks trying to run over people." I tried, as calmly as I could, to say this without getting a panic attack. Or heart attack. "What are you?"

"Sentient… robot."

"But you're a car. You're not a robot."

"There's a lot more than meets the eye..." He copied Sam's voice from a couple of nights before. We were now out on the streets of the town center of Tranquility.

"Why are you chasing my brother?" I asked as the car turned on a corner and I lost Sam from my sight. "Why did you turn? Where is my brother?" I frantically looked around as the car kept driving itself. "I want out of here right now." I gripped the lock, but it wouldn't budge. "Ugh, why me?" I rolled my eyes skyward before the car turned once again, decelerating to a stop and in that moment, I saw Sam riding his bike on the sidewalk, but then falling over on some broken concrete.

That was a bad idea.

"Bumblebee, why are you here?" I resigned to asking.

"I'm on a mission."

I saw Sam quickly getting on and speeding off on his bike, and Bumblebee and I were following him. "What mission?"

We went under some kind of bridge, there were a lot of abandoned cars here. It looked like a junkie hangout, but more than anything, it was a definite junkyard. "Answer me!" I yelled out, but it didn't answer.

I'm having none of this. I'm getting a new car.

I tried opening the door. It was locked and my attempts were futile. "Let me out, Bee."

And I hadn't even realized I have given him a nickname. "Hmm… no."

"Let me out or face my wrath." I pulled up a blue sphere in my palm, lightly illuminating the black and yellow interior. "I'll give you three shots to guess what I'm going to do to you." I growled. "And the first two don't count."

Written:

20.01.2015.