Christmas Eve.
Begging. Demanding.
Let me leave.
I told you I have to go.
I’m late.
A roar, gravel flying.
A rush sets in. Panic. Chills, a bead of sweat.
Can’t be late again.
Flying.
Trees swim past, blurry.
Infinite sky, chattering teeth, broken heater.
Faster.
Music happy, youthful, carefree.
A bolt of bright lightning, racing.
Can’t be late.
This happens too often.
Scolding.
Bright gravel rushing close.
Swirling trees, stars, and sky.
Music skips a beat.
Terror.
The sky crunches.
A standstill.
Speechless.
Diagonally, open the door.
Hot. Smoke.
Fear made waterfalls.
Fumble for contact.
Call.
Sob, incoherent.
I’m okay.
I love you too.
Come quick please.
Knees kiss the gravel,
Face to the stars.
Boiling tears.
I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to disappoint you.
It’s not my fault.
I tried so hard to obey.
Unfortunate how he made this happen.
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