The Journey Home

I got in my car and started to drive, stereo blaring, windows rolled down. The hot, summer sun shining and the warm wind blowing through my hair. The sound of the gravel crunching beneath the tires. Dust blowing behind me like a cloud.

All alone in my own little world, I felt free.        

Free to drive as fast I wanted.

Free to say whatever came to mind.

Free to be me without people judging.

I drove along, going at a medium pace. Passing feilds and slowing down to cross low creek bridges. Some dry, some with water bubbling joyfully underneath.

I turned on my phone, no service. I didn't care though. Content with just the sound of the radio, the wind and my voice singing along.

Up ahead just around a curve something came into my vision. Something moving fast. An old, orange pickup.

I went to slow down. My foot slipped off of the pedal.         I tried again and eased down on the break, turning the wheel to the right hand side of the road to make room for the truck approaching me.

The driver of the orange truck didn't seem to be slowing down. He swerved to the left and then the right.

"What the heck.. Learn how to drive." I mumbled to myself.

He swerved again, coming very close to the barb wired fence along the side of the lane.

My heart started beating fast. Beads of sweat began to form on my forehead.

"Straighten that thing out before you hurt someone." I said.

By now he was about a car length away. As he carreend closer I pulled over more, hugging the side of the road. Three feet away from me he swung his truck to the right. Safe from hitting me, but not the sturdy barb wired fence. His grill smashed into the metal wiring, which instantly broke.

I hit the breaks, put the car into park and jumped out. The pickup careened through the feild, heading towards the woods.

I began to run after him, screaming.

"Stop! STOP!"

The driver swerved trying to avoid the trees, but he had lost control.

It was too late.

The pickup smashed into a huge oak. Finally stopped, steam rising out of the bent hood. I ran faster, loosing one of my flip flops on the way. I didn't care, I had to make sure he was alright.

Finally, I reached the truck. I could see the driver, head against the steering wheel.

I prayed that he wasn't dead.