I’m not going to lie, sometimes it really sucks being a car that everyone assumes is haunted. People walk through the bush or forest and they think I’m just there to scare them, or worse. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I just want somebody to help me.

I’ve been travelling across Australia, looking for the best car suspension specialists, because I really need their expertise. I used to be a normal car until some kid messed with my suspension while I was asleep and raised it to the extreme. Since then, people have been afraid of me. I spend most of my time hidden away, except for the rare instances where I build up the courage to go into town, find an auto shop and try to fix it myself. I’ve spent a lot of time in Midland, Western Australia, and the townspeople have started calling me the Suspender, like some sort of villain or pro wrestler. I’m neither of those things. I’m just a car in need.

I think it’s time to move on. I’ve got a lead on my next town, and I only hope that there are people who can help me there. The mechanic near Moorabbin is supposed to be the best there is. It’s a long way from Midland, but I don’t have many options. If this fails, I don’t know what I’ll do. Wander into the desert and bury myself under the mounds of sand, I suppose.

Sometimes I think I should just embrace the monster they believe I am. It could be quite fun to haunt people, come to think of it. But I’d rather just go back to my old life, driving freely on the road. I wouldn’t have to worry about odd looks or giving someone a heart attack. Just me and the asphalt, all the way across the country. There’s nothing better. I do miss it. More than anything.