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Please, please, please don’t take her from me, don’t?—
AGE 18, MARCH
Gravel kicks up under my tires, blowing dust clouds up into the rain-strung night. My high-beams sweep across the narrow, winding dirt road—the only light seen for miles.
Even the moon and stars couldn’t be bothered to make an appearance tonight.
I have half a mind to cut my lights out of spite.
“All Around Me” by Flyleaf crackles through my old speakers, but I don’t turn it down, even when the speakers strain and the windows rattle from the pressure.
It’s only 9:30, according to the clock on my dash. Early for them—for this—but I’m not surprised. If anything, I should be relieved that they’ve already tapped out, and I can finally get this over with.
This day.
This night.
Whatever shitshow I’m about to walk into.
But instead, all I feel is a hollow sort of inevitability. The kind not even fear or dread could puncture.
With every second, it grows more suffocating.
More unbearable.
I had no idea emptiness could be so heavy.
I shift in my seat, giving the gas pedal a little more juice. Almost there…
I knew I’d be getting the call at some point tonight, and have been bracing for it all day, laying in bed with my headphones on, watching the shadows creep across my room as the morning gave way to afternoon, and the afternoon gave way to evening…
Counting the minutes tick, tick, ticking by on the clock on my nightstand—the numbers flickering blood-red over slate walls.
The road levels into a straight, narrow drag, and I squeeze my steering wheel—the leather creaking, my fingers aching. My foot presses further down on the gas, and my vision tunnels as the engine revs loudly, the car shaking as it accelerates. In the corner of my eye, I watch as the needle on the odometer spikes.
Looming pine trees rush past on either side of me, stretching and disappearing into the shadows.
The music is blaring—and yet all I hear is a roaring in my ears, growing louder with every second.
I clench my jaw and press down harder…
Harder…
Flooring it.
Almost there…
The road turns sharply, and I’m ready for it.
I slam on the brakes, lighting the world up red, and crank the wheel. My back tires skid, kicking up a wave of dirt, and I’m flying, blond hair swinging across my eyes as the car goes ’round and ’round.
Dirt and rain and darkness whirl into a vortex, until I wonder if maybe it will actually swallow me up this time.
My heart tumbles in my chest, and my body is vibrating right along with the car as it whips and whips, before skidding to a sudden, rocking stop. With me parked horizontally across the road, headlights boring into the woods.
Chills explode across my skin—nerve-endings sparking to life. Clouds of dirt hover outside the car, boxing me in. It’s as if time has seemingly stopped, if only for a split second.
Everything is utterly still—quiet—save for the music still playing, the rain coming down, and the rhythmic swiping of the windshield wipers.
