Sara woke up to the sound of her door swinging open and hitting the wall stopper, the rubber 'thonnnnnnnnnng' sound vibrating like a tuning fork in her head.

Bright sunny light shone through the window and into Sara's eyes.

"Sara!" Sara's Dad shouted. "Come on! Get up! I need your help with this. Mom said I can't leave you in the house alone because you aren't behaving or something like that." Dad said in a rush.

"We've got to go. Now. The race is almost starting."

Sara sat up, confused. A race? And was she being reverse-grounded or something? That was a new one. Mom must've been upset. "What kind of race?!" she shouted back, whilst getting dressed in a hurry.

Dad opened the closet and started to throw clothing onto the bed. Shirts, pants, socks. None of them matching. They all fell twisted and disarrayed in a chaotic storm landing on Sara's bed, with the expectation that she would get dressed.

Sara tried to think of the "race", her mind still a blurr of dreaming thoughts and half-remembered oddities from a dreamworld that was fading fast

OOC: Sara Rolls Intelligence + Composure +2(the "race" happens often)

Of course she knew...

OOC: 19:01, Today: Sara rolled 4 successes using 7d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s ((2,10(+8),3,3,3,9,8)).

The thoughts came rushing in. The reality of the waking world quickly replacing the dream world that seemed so real just moments ago.

It wasn't her race.

It was a horse race. It was Off Track Betting. A place that wasn't even at the horse racing event. A smokey bar filled with middle aged men. A place Sara had been many times before. Dad wanted to conquer horse betting not because it was hard, but because it was said to be impossible. When he cracked it, he claimed that he would never gamble again.

Sara had been to the race track perhaps dozens of times with Dad. It usually happened because Mom didn't trust Sara to leave her alone at home for extended periods of time. So had to watch her. And rather than stay at home, Dad usually wanted to gamble.

Right. Right, of course. Her head was still sort of jumbled from recent events. The last few days were like a different, more interesting life...

But this had a certain thrill to it as well, if only because she figured Mom didn't much like this option either.

"Okay, I'm ready!" she declared, having put on her jeans and jacket.

And they were there, rushing down the stairs so fast it sounded like rolling thunder. Dad had an urgent, sweaty pace about him. He swung open the door, not bothering to check to see if Sara was hit by it as it came back, boomeranging towards her.

Before Sara could get her way onto the porch, Dad had already started the car.
He opened the side door with impatience, at the same time honking the horn.

'BEEEP!'

'BEEEP!'

The car blared obnoxiously. Though Sara was already on the front lawn.

"Hurry up!" Dad barked in her direction.

Sara fumed, but ran towards the car.

No sooner had Sara sat in the car and strapped in, than Dad pushed that gas. The car door on the passenger side slammed shut --nearly on Sara's foot.

Dad layed wheel on the pavement, and there was a screeching sound followed by the smell of burned rubber. It was all very unnecessary as he pulled out of the neighborhood down the road.  A bicyclist was crossing the road and it looked like Dad might crash right into the man.

"JESUS!!!" Dad yelled, bracing for impact that would surely kill the man.

Sara clenched her teeth and widened her eyes, as she realised what was going on.

Sara's Dad slammed his fist on the horn

"BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!"

The startled eyes of the bicyclist grew wide and as dinner plates, a look of terror forming over his face.


Dad swerved to the right and narrowly avoided killing the man.

"What the FUCK!?" Dad screamed, emphasizing the work 'Fuck.' "Can you believe that idiot? A stupid, fucking idiot is what he is. Stupid idiot. Jesus titty-fucking Christ! Some people are so stupid. You know what I mean?" He said, clearly expecting some kind of agreement from Sara.

Sara nodded, still a little wide-eyed. Of course he was right, but it occurred to her the same went for him too. "Yeah, they are," she managed, "so watch where you're going!"

If she died today because of his reckless driving, she'd probably go to Hell or become a ghost. Truth be told, she wasn't in a hurry to do either.

The car sped along and onto the main road. "Come on...Come on..." Dad said as he pulled up behind another car that was waiting at the stop light.

"This is Bullshit!" Dad yelled. "It's taking too long. Come On! Go! Don't they know that people have places to go. We better not get there late. Or I'm going to be fucking pissed."

"More than you are now?" Sara wondered. "Wait... what if we are late?" Then... they'd have to stay at home? She didn't like the idea at all. Of course, she'd probably just escape then.

"What?" Dad said, not really paying attention to Sara. It sounded like he was more talking to himself.

Dad pulled into the parking lot of the Off-Track-Betting place. A dilapidated building with a cracked parking lot, the pavement kicking up dust from asphalt long ago abandoned. Oil stains were everywhere on the ground. and there seemed to be the strong smell of cigarette smoke that penetrated into the interior of the car.

"Out!" Dad yelled getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. It slammed on the seatbelt, leaving it open.

Sara got out, cringing at the smell. Yep, that was the place alright...

Sara stepped on a bit of chewed gum in the parking lot, the substance sticking to the bottom of her sneaker.

"Alright, we're here." Dad said with bridled enthusiasm.

'Clap!'

Dad slapped his hands together, as if they both had achieved something. "Come on, let's go inside."

Sara grimaced some more, on noticing the gum. She dragged her sneaker along the asphalt in a vain effort to rub off some part of it. Then, despairing, she went with her dad, wondering if she would be the only kid there this time.

The first thing that Sara saw and felt was the wall of smoke that she passed through as Dad and her pushed into the smikey interior of the Off Track Betting. The second thing were all of the TV's. They were everywhere. TVs with different horse races.

All around were older men. Dad's age and older. They were smoking. Or at least around smoke.

Dad sat down at a nearby table that had a used ash tray and several cigarettes in it.

"This is the best place ever!" He announced with total sincerity and enthusiasm.

Sara sat down as well. She didn't like the smoke, and the races kind of bored her, but there was a tiny little thrill to being here, all the same. She glanced at the TVs, then looked at the men, searching for any familiar faces.

No sooner did Sara sit down then her father completely forgot about her.

Dad lit a cigarette, the whisp of smoke going up to the ceiling and joining the haze. His eyes were fixed on the television screen with the practiced, entranced look of someone who had been here thousands of times before. His face looked both eager and heavy. He slowly reached down underneath the table and brought out his wallet.

It was like Sara wasn't even there.

Well, if she wasn't there, he wouldn't mind if she got up and walked around, to see if there was anyone or anything more interesting here. Something worth stealing, maybe... not that she was going to do that... unless she decided that she was.