Cigarette Lighter Nightmare
It was when I was 13 or 14 years old, I can't remember exactly. I had just played in a stake basketball game and my dad was taking me home. It was cold and rainy and I was pretty hot from playing ball (don't know why I'm adding these details, but bear with me.)
I must have had a mental lapse. There are periods throughout my life when these happened, most of the time unexpectedly: The time when I dove head first off my deck and broke my arm when I was 12, the time when I smashed about 30 beer bottles all over the driveway next to my friend's house when I was 6, or the time when I got left by my friends at a 76 gas station at 3 in the morning wearing nothing but some swim trunks. The list is long and I'm afraid we don't have time for that. Be satisfied with the fact that I wasn't thinking clearly.
I remember getting to the car first and plopping down shotgun while my dad chatted with someone he knew outside of the car. For the hey of it I depressed the car cigarette lighter. The car wasn't on and it hadn't been for a couple of hours, so what was the harm. My dad hopped in and started up the car. I quickly popped out the cigarette lighter and examined it as my dad pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the main road. I remember the coils being black (they got red when they were hot, right?)
After a few seconds of convincing, I stuck my middle finger against the coils. The sound was horrid, as was the smell. Of course, both of those didn't even hold a candle to the sheer pain I felt as the coils seared the flesh from my finger. I must have been screaming unconsciously because I don't really remember my dad pulling the car over to the side of the road. When I looked up the windows were all fogged up and my dad was staring at me strangely. He asked me, quite plainly, if I just stuck my finger in the car cigarette lighter to which I whimpered "yes." For the rest of the ride home he didn't say a word to me, he would just glance at me every so often and shake his head.