He clears his throat, then finishes, “You turned your back on me.”
My rheumy eyes, now distant, lock on the dark water of Chase’s pool. Everything closes in on me as I fist my phone harder, pulling it away from my ear.
Rusty’s voice continues to echo down the line. “Harlen, you there, son?”
I don’t reply.
I haul my phone across the yard, shove up from my seat, and slam my fist into the wall beside me.
The crunch is loud, wet.
My insides churn as the sound recoils around me.
I did.I turned my back on her.
I never gave her a reason to stay.
“Left To Burn” by Cold Haven hammers vehemently through the caliginosity of the cabin. The warm glow of my car's headlights illuminating the swaying trees at the edge of the soaked asphalt.
I’ve been on the road for an hour.
After I left Shadow Heads, the sun had quickly tucked itself behind the threatening storm clouds hovering at its back. Each low rumble of what was to come had felt only like compounding bad omens, and the graying shadows that lingered above had the sun’s beauty by its throat. The thickness was suffocating.
I pulled over when my legs began trembling. The pulses were so erratic, I could feel myself losing control…of the car…of myself.
I wanted to.
Lose control, that is.
Take myself out.
That would be the easy way, right?
Put an end to all the trauma, the macabre nightmares.
However, I’ve never been strong enough to welcome death. I’ve survived it too many times now that I’m starting to think no one wants me—not even my pending grave.
I waited ten minutes for the grim storm, then it delivered in spades, pounding down on my car like bullets, before dissipating and passing like it never happened, leaving me a weathered pile of jolting bones.
I cried hysterically for what could have only been a few minutes, except the aches in my body felt like I had been at it for hours. Closing my eyes, I imagined Tyler was with me. He always knew what to say, how to hold me through a storm, and as much as I hate him for leaving me all those years ago, I still cling to those moments, the ones where he guided me toward the light as the darkness did its best to drag me right back into its wounded night.
With a sharp exhale, my sweaty palms clutch the steering wheel a little firmer as my bottom lip begins to tremble. I need to find a way to hold space for myself instead of sinking into the comfort of the memories of people who ultimately never cared about me.
Fuck Tyler and the hope he ever provided.
And fuck his piece-of-shit friend too, the very one who turned hisback on me.
Pain in my lower stomach has me pushing my car into cruise control and crossing my legs desperately. My bladder is full, about to burst, and when my headlights snag on the white, peeling metal sign in the distance, I see that the next gas station is in two miles.
Relief climbs the rickety ladder through my veins; however, fear and terror make sure to snap each wrung.
It’s pitch black.
I’m a female.
And I’m on my own.
I’m terrified to stop, to get out of my car, to use a public restroom.
