Magic In The Night

On a nearly abandoned street in Philadelphia, one car claimed a country road for itself. Yet why anyone would want to be out on this night, was beyond anyone's knowledge. The rain came down in torrents, leaving the cement slippery and dangerous. It made for poor visibility as the water droplets whipped viciously against the windshield of the yellow Chevrolet. Yet the driver seemed intent on driving in this weather. The tread on the rubbery wheels combated fiercely with the slick black pavement, sliding all around the road. The needle on the speedometer inched past 100, yet the man's tight grip on the steering wheel and heavy gas foot never wavered. Not one bit.

In fact he needed the speed, like an addict needed their addiction. This speed spoke to him in ways people could not. He needed the speed, he needed to leave this place and not return for many years. A place far away and only the speed could get him there. He pushed his foot down even more, barely resting an inch off the floor. The needle started to shake around the hundred and fifty mark, but he kept going as if nothing was wrong. Inside his head a little voice tried to get through to him saying "You are going to get hurt, or hurt someone. Stop now." Still he would not ease up on the gas, the pedal literally being down to the metal. That voice inside of him called him crazy and he began to wonder how insane he really was if a voice in his head was telling him that he was crazy. He shook his head to clear it.
Everything was moving so fast but so slow at the same time. It was as if someone had picked up the remote control of his life and put it on slow motion, while fast forwarding it at the same time. He wasn't under the influence of anything, yet he was not sober so to speak. How could one be sober when thoughts assaulted the wall of the mind relentlessly? The weeks had dragged on in the last few months and he was sick of it. He needed this high speed to get away, to get away from the thoughts assaulting his mind. Why was everything happening like this? He needed to know and there was one way to find out.

He zoned back into the road, his car was sliding dangerously close to the edge of the road because of the slippery conditions. He turned the wheel to the left and felt his tires slide on the slick, wet road, forcing him to turn the wheel to the right. Now he was fishtailing; the car was swerving from the left to the right uncontrollably. He fought with the wheel for control as he saw the lights coming towards him not too far in the distance. One car coming towards him fast in the other lane, which his car was swerving dangerously close to.

She will never know what it feels like, what she has done to me. These feelings are to be my death. She is to be my death and she won't even know that she did it. She won't even get to have the satisfaction of knowing she caused my death. What did I ever do to make her hate me? If I could ask her just one thing, that is what I would ask. Now I will never know.
He zoned back in to see the car dangerously close and as a last ditch effort he pulled hard to the right, his car responding immediately. He could not stop his forward momentum though and his car kept going into the dirt. He flung himself out of the car after unstrapping his seat belt, watching as his precious automobile collided head on with a tree. He lay on his back, on the cold hard ground in a daze.

He heard footsteps headed in his direction and this broke the spell as he slowly sat up. He saw this unbelievably familiar figure walking towards him, but he could not tell for sure who it was due to the rain clouding his vision as well as the pounding sensation in his head which he acquired when he jumped out of the moving vehicle. The silhouette of the figure approached him ever so slowly and eventually got close enough that he could see who it was through the rain and fog and he gasped, his breaths becoming ever so much more laboured. It was her. What the hell was she doing here! She didn't need to be here. This was not a good time.
"Are you okay? I was coming to see you."
What was he supposed to say to that?
"I love you," she said.