From the backseat, I peered through the gap between the front seat's head rest and the rest of its body. I observed the way my driver was restless in his seat - the same restlessness reflected in his driving as he jammed the brakes one too many times. " We're gonna hit, " I thought to myself every single time we came too close to the car in front of us. I fear for my life whenever I encounter impatient drivers. But more than the fear that was going wild in my stomach, many other thoughts sprung up in my mind. It was the kind of thoughts that sat quietly yet dominantly. Demons. Within seconds, I was staring right back at my 16-year-old despondent self. I felt like the same belligerent teen losing her ground waging war in this unfamiliar world.  I was fighting myself - the person I hated the most. I still do today. It was a bad day. No, it has been many bad days. And I hate to admit it. Or maybe what I hate more is feeling the same he...