Fiction Fantastic 2025 Winning Story: “The Right Turn” by Paige Stutzman

The story below is a winner from our Fiction Fantastic Young Writers Contest, open to all youth in Lane County. For more information on this contest, including how to enter, visit here. Support this program with a donation.

You can purchase this story in the 2025 Winners Anthology, Echoes of the Future.

“The Right Turn” by Paige Stutzman, Oaklea Middle School

First Place, Elementary Level, 2025

The Right Turn

by Paige Stutzman

Oaklea Middle School

I’ll always remember the day when I saw those red and blue flashing lights. Then, we heard a knock.

“There’s been an accident. He died,” the cops said.

On Dad’s way home from work, while taking a right turn (he had his blinkers on and everything), a drunk driver was driving the opposite direction into his lane and ran right into our minivan. Dad died shortly after the impact.

Mom was already getting nervous because Dad was running late. That night, we were all going to go out to eat, probably Papa’s Pizza–Dad’s favorite–but instead we ate frozen pizzas, not nearly as good. And by the time we got to eat, I wasn’t even hungry anymore. I also remember waiting in bed the whole night listening to Mom’s cries in the other bedroom alone. Mom just wanted Dad back.

Of course, there were many effects of this accident: like how we got rid of the minivan even though it was fixable, and how Mom got a full-time job instead of being a stay-at-home mom. She now works at Washington State University as an administrative assistant. We live in Pullman, Washington, so it’s not that big of a commute. We live twenty-five minutes away from the college. Also, we never go to Papa’s Pizza. The last time we went there, Mom started tearing up and we left. I figured it was because she has so many memories of my dad at Papa’s Pizza.

The reason why we had to make so many changes were this: memories. They are always giving us feelings of the past. For me, my past is overshadowed by the loss of my well-loved dad. Also, my memories are not fun to think about at all. As Dad would always say: “Don’t look back to the past too often because it already happened. Instead, look forward to the future ‘cause it hasn’t happened.”

The sad part is that all that my family consists of my mom, and me, Amber. I’m not very social either. I find it hard to get close to people because I am afraid I will lose them like I lost my dad.

This all happened when I was ten. But then I was fifteen. Five years stronger, five years braver, and five years of dreading learning how to drive. I knew that at some point in time, I would have to learn how to drive. I’d been holding out until the last minute.

It was my first day of my sophomore year. My birthday always fell a week after the first day of school. The first day was Monday and my sixteenth birthday would be the next Friday.

I walked into my new homeroom and took the desk in the back row, in the right corner, farthest away from everyone. After my new class got there, my new homeroom teacher came to the front of the class and introduced herself.

“Class, my name is Ms. H. First of all, I expect you to all be on your best behavior this year. Now I will give you your assigned seat.”

What?! High school teachers at my school never give assigned seats. Especially for homeroom, you are only in your homeroom for thirty-five minutes of the seven-hour school day!

“In the first row is Clara, James, Selina,” said Ms. H as she walked through the rows calling out names for assigned seats. Occasionally, a kid would correct the teacher with their preferred nicknames. But you could tell she was too strict to care.

“Amber,” called Ms. H pointing to the middle desk in the second row. I slowly got up and pushed my chair in. I sat down and looked to my left and saw a boy named Justin taking a pencil out of the pencil case connected to his binder and twirling it around. On my right a girl named Jennie was pulling out her chair and putting her binder in her desk. She had been in my class before, but I hadn’t really gotten to know her. She sat quietly fidgeting with her hands. She kept looking at her watch every five minutes as the teacher talked about rules.

“Now class, we only have ten more minutes left in class, so you’d better pay attention.” Ms. H said as I watched Jennie continue to look at her watch.

The class groaned. The first twenty-five minutes were so boring!

After ten more minutes of sternness, introduction to tenth grade, and typical sophomore chaos, the bell rang. I went out of the classroom knowing that Homeroom was very strict.

When I got home, Mom came up to me.

“Honey, I need to talk to you. I think it’s about time you learn how to drive.”

No, driving is the reason Dad is gone. Driving is horrible! I thought to myself.

“Well, I’m definitely not driving on the Center Street and Grand Avenue intersection.” I spoke as soon as the thoughts raced into my mind.

“We can work with that Amber. I know that’s where Dad got hit. Just keep an open mind, OK?”

“Yeah, sure, Mom,” I said.

“So, is that a yes?” Mom asked.

“I think so,” I responded.

“Great! You know what? This weekend is free. Why don’t we start then?” Mom exclaimed.

“Sure,” I said back unenthusiastically.

The dreaded day came when I had to learn to drive. We started in an empty parking lot. We practiced parking and backing out of the yellow lined parking spots. Then Mom taught me how to drive around the parking lot a little. Mom drove us back home and we got some good rest that afternoon.

I was so surprised at myself for feeling calm and confident that day.

Sunday afternoon Mom drove us to the same parking lot, and I practiced the same skills we did the day before. On our lunch break Mom asked me to think about something while I finished eating.

“Amber, would you want to try driving on a non-busy street by this parking lot?” Mom asked.

No, no, no! I thought. But I can try. My thoughts quickly turned around because I temporarily forgot about Dad’s accident.

“I will, Mom!” I said confidently. “I can do it!”

Mom looked surprised. “Wow! I’m proud of you for being willing to try!”

After lunch Mom and I turned onto the boring, quiet road . . . or at least what any ordinary person would have called it. To me it was déjù vu of a horrible bloody car accident just like the one Dad was in.

Going seven miles per hour with my hands gripped tight on the steering wheel, I pushed down on the gas pedal a little making it to nine miles per hour. All was going well until a loud honking horn gave me a jump. In the rearview mirror was an angry old man in an old-fashioned Volkswagen Bug. I pressed on the gas pedal a little more, so I was going twenty-four miles per hour.

Surprisingly, my second driving lesson was over before I knew it and I was at school in the dreaded Homeroom Monday morning. Ms. H always made me anxious, so my heart pounded when I was in the same room as her. That morning, everyone was sitting as still as a log with their hands in their laps like perfect little angels. I slowly turned my head to look at Jennie. She was smiling at me!

Once the bell rang, Jennie came up to me while I was opening my locker combo or at least trying to. One thing you should know about me was that I was very smart, pretty, and athletic. (I did soccer, volleyball, basketball, track, and softball). The one thing I was HORRIBLE at was opening my locker combo. Last year, I would always keep my locker cracked open just a little bit so that, when I needed something, I would just grab the handle and pull. I thought part of the problem was that we didn’t have lockers in middle school.

“Hi,” Jennie said.

“Hi,” I said back shyly.

“Do you want some help with that locker combo?” Jennie asked.

“Yes, please!!” I said half laughing, half speaking.

I told Jennie my code, and then she opened my locker in less than a minute! She closed the metal door, then opened my combo again.

“Here, you try,” Jennie motioned to the locker.

I cleared the lock, then turned to the right until I got to twenty-three, then I twisted to the left until I passed twenty-three and then got to four, then, for the last step I gave a little twist and lined up at thirty-six. Then pulled the lock, just like Jennie had done. And the locker swung open!

“Thank you, Jennie!” I gave her a huge hug. This was just the beginning of a new friendship.

The rest of the day went on normally, until it was time to walk home. Jennie ran up to me with her black and white checkered binder in her arms.

“Amber!” she yelled.

I turned my head.

“Oh, hi,” I said.

We walked together talking.

“I have my license, but I live so close to school that I have to walk home, according to my parents,” Jennie said.

“Cool, I need my license eventually,” I responded. We kept walking and laughing until we got to the road that separated us from each other.

“Bye!” I said as I was waving. Jennie waved back.

And that’s how it was every day from that point on!

After my sixteenth birthday, I continued to do many hardcore driving lessons with my mom for several months. In the chaos of all that, I also managed to make fantastic friends with Jennie. Jennie already had her license, so she gave me tips and tricks for my upcoming driver’s test. I had developed such a strong friendship with Jennie that I actually felt comfortable telling her about my dad’s accident. I told her how my dad’s head hit the steering wheel, which cracked his head open. His ribs were broken and, if he had survived, his arm would have had to be amputated. His spine was also very messed up.

After the several months of intense driving lessons with my mom, she told me that she thought I was ready to take my driver’s test and scheduled it.

The day came for my driver’s test. My heart felt like it was about ready to explode. I tried to think about other things, like I was going to go to Jennie’s house after the driver’s test, but it didn’t seem to work very well.

“Hello, Amber, my name is Rob, short for Robert,” the driving instructor said.

“Hi,” I said, nervously staring at my shoes.

“Let’s go over the driving map,” Rob said.

I was too scared to listen to Rob, but then I heard Rob say something that stood out:

“Then we will go through the Center Street. and Grand Avenue intersection,” Rob spoke casually.

NO WAY, NO WAY, NO WAY! IS THIS FOR REAL?! I thought. I looked at Mom and Mom looked at me. I then decided to change my attitude and told myself, I can do this. I can do this. A smile came over my face. Because Jennie had taught me so many useful tools for driving, I knew what to do.!

The test was going great until the big turn on Grand Avenue came up. The part of the driving test I was most nervous about. I knew if I could get through driving this part of the test, the rest would be fine. I jerked my steering wheel to the right, exhaled my breath and turned on to Grand Avenue. As I was driving smoothly on that street, I passed where my dad had died. A few moments later, I had done it and passed the part of the test I was the most scared of!

When I got back, my mom and I waited ten minutes in the lobby on our phones for my final driving test score. Rob said I had passed, but I had to wait to know how well I did. My Mom was shopping on Amazon, and I was playing Minecraft. Rob finally came out with a piece of paper in his hand, the passing score was 80 or higher. Rob handed me the paper and I slowly unfolded it to reveal a big, fat 82 Even though it was better than 80 or 81, tears still filled my eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Mom asked.

“Because it’s not good enough!” I exclaimed.

“Sweetie, you did your best. Now remember, you get to go to Jennie’s house.” Mom tried to cheer me up.

A smile perked on my face.

“I guess so.”

The next morning at school, I shared the good news with Jennie.

“You did better than me. I got an 81,” Jennie said.

I laughed, “This just shows how you can overcome your fears.”

“Amber, I sure admire you, you’re a brave girl and an amazing friend,” Jennie complimented me.

“Thanks,” I said shyly. And I walked off as the bell rang, knowing that I could do hard things. I had a new reputation, one that showed bravery and courage. If my dad was here, I bet he would be proud of me, too. And somehow, I realized that my memories of my dad were now stronger than my greatest fears, happier than Ms. H putting Jennie next to me, and better than getting my license. And I will always remember those memories for the rest of my life. I had finally taken a right turn on the road and in my life.