More opinion on my story titled “The Trip”?
Okay so I know I have asked this many times, but I have it longer now. What I want your opinion on is if I describe everything that my character smells, hears, sees, and thinks well enough for my reader to understand. Please no copying… 
All I could see from the backseat of the car was advertiments for restaurants and “Adopt a Highway” signs. My Golden Retriever, Lulu, was resting her head on my thigh, sleeping heavily. The woman in the front seat I call mom was singing to the 70’s music on the radio. Dad was just sitting in the drivers’ seat glaring at the curvy roads ahead, not even listening to me protest about our five hour road trip.
“Now honey, when I was a boy I once drove from back home in Illinois all the way to Washington with my six annoyin’ lil’ brothers and sisters. And you know how long that took?” I didn’t respond. He didn’t say a word either.
Dead silence.
The highway eventually led to a country road with apartments and ranch houses lined up behind a newly painted white fence. I glanced out ahead the front window to see if the there was a main road up ahead so we could get some food to cure my growling stomach. Nothing. Just trees, manure, barns, and fields.
Besides the smell, Wisconsin seemed pretty nice. The houses weren’t too old fashioned, you could barely find an busy sidewalks like there was in New York, and everyone taking a morning walk that we passed seemed to be kind. But then again, I thought, don’t judge a book by it’s cover.
A sudden jolt shook the car awaking my dog, Lulu from her nap as dad led the car onto a long gravel path. The drive led to a house that was wide with a low roof. A barn, broken window and all was set off about fifty yards away from the brick house. Open windows in the front showed off rooms that looked like they belonged to a family.
“We’re here. Get your bags ready.” My dad ordered from the front seat. I looked at his handsome dark hair and wide chin. Everyone always said I was a perfect resemblance to him. Maybe on the outside, but not the inside, I thought, remembering the force of his arm on mine, grabbing me and pushing me into the car. Tears were coming out of my eyes like a river, as mom had explained. She had said to calm me down, “Stop crying, sweetie, you’ll flood our house.” But it didn’t help.
Dad never told where we were going or why. All I knew was that I was in Wisconsin from reading a sign at the state border.
“Rylee Romano, get out of the car now. Me and your mom have an important business meeting soon, and we’ll miss our flight if you don’t get a move on.” Dad boomed. He was now standing outside of the car, holding a duffel bag. I wondered to myself how he had packed all three bags without me knowing. Also, if they were really going on a business trip. As far as I was concerned, my parents worked in completely different fields.
“Rylee!”
“Oh, sorry. Coming!” I staggered out of the SUV with Lulu trotting behind, armed with two duffel bags.
Waiting at the front porch was an older lady, probably in her 50’s, waving at me and dad and mom frantically. I hoped that this woman wouldn’t be caring for me while my parents were on their ‘business trip’. And I got my spirit’s up way to high.
Up close, the woman didn’t look as ugly as I had imagined. Her slightly gray hair was braided cascading down her back and was wearing a midnight blue turtle neck with a pair of jeans.
“Hi, Rylee. I’m Marla, you’re great aunt. I will be babysitting you until your mommy and daddy get back. Okay?” Marla sounded like a peppy preschool teacher introducing herself, making me almost want to vomit. It wasn’t a very good first impression if that was what she was trying to do.
“Come one inside. We can have some mint tea.” she said, motioning for us, the Romano’s, to follow her.
We followed Marla inside into a dimly lit hall with photographs of little girls, maybe grandchildren, playing in sand, snow, dirt, leaves, and grass. The hallway brought us to a carpeted living room with cabinet after cabinet with exotic dolls staring at me through the streaky glass. Unfolded laundry lay in a wash basket on an old couch placed up against a wall, facing a small TV. room with cabinet after cabinet with exotic dolls staring at me through the streaky glass. Unfolded laundry lay in a wash basket on an old couch placed up against a wall, facing a small TV.
“Do you like dolls, Rylee?” she seemed to have noticed me staring blankly at her collection. I spun around to see her staring at me with curious eyes .
“No.”
“Oh.”
We continued to a wide room, a kitchen, with beige walls and cowboy wallpaper. There was three stools placed by a shiny marble counter. An island with drawers on all sides had a gallon of milk with a half full cereal bowl and a spoon left on it. Pictures of more children, sloppy pictures torn out of a coloring book, and colorful magnets were covering almost the entire refri
Sorry it is so long