Authors note: - Quick short story that has nothing to do with anything. I get inspired by the strangest things.
I had wanted to drive it every since it pulled into our drive way. It was sleek and silver, all bright shiny and new. The interior was blood red leather with black and silver detailing. It only seated two but that made it all the more perfect.
My father bought it to celebrate becoming a partner in his law firm. He rarely drove it and it sat in the garage under a form fitting tarp. It seemed a shame to just leave it sitting there, cadged up. I had to take it out, drive it, experience it.
So when they left for a play I took my chance. It was easy locating the keys; it wasn't as if my dad had attempted to hide them. He trusted me, and would never suspect that I'd taken it out for a spin. It would be back and under the tarp long before they had returned.
I peeled off the tarp and smiled at the car like it was my secret lover. The harsh garage lights shone off the silver paint and did nothing to dampen its beauty. I opened the door and slid in. The seat hugged my body and the sent of leather tickled my nose. With relish I breathed in the cars aroma.
The engine purred to life like a happy kitten, I felt as if it was welcoming me into it. I quickly used the remote to open the garage and slowly pulled out. An almost sexual sense of pleasure rocked up my body as I pulled onto the road. This car was perfection in motion. How my dad could stand to just let it sit and rot away was beyond me.
It was already late and the roads around my house rarely got any traffic. It provided the perfect environment to curse in. We lived on the side of a mountain that was covered in winding roads and a few more houses similar to mine.
The full moon shown down on me and my car, now that I was in it, it was mine. I revved the engine and tore into the night. The wind whipped about me and my hair was thrown back. I never pictured it to be this much fun to drive a convertible. It made me feel a greater sense of connection with the vehicle. I could hear its every little growl and feel what it felt.
I put on my favorite CD and cranked up the volume to as loud as I could stand. With the open roof I could get it pretty damned loud. My neighbors would only hear a brief collection of sound as I rocketed past their houses. I threw my head back and cried into the heavens with pure joy. This is what it felt like to truly be alive.
As I tore around another corner the wheels slipped. I could feel the car loosing its grip on the road and I twisted the wheel in an attempt to regain control. The car roared around the bend, moving strait towards the guard rail. I barely had time to register hitting it and tearing through it. A horrible screech of metal filled the night air and the engine howled loudly as I lost all contact with the ground. Every thing went silent as I stared in horror at the ground rushing up at me.
It was as if I just went to sleep and woke back up. I lifted my head and looked around me; I was lying under a tree near the twisted wreck that was my father's car. It was half as big as it was before, it almost looked like a giant child had come along and crushed the car in half over it self. If I had been in it I'd have been crushed to death.
I struggled to my feet and moved towards the heap of metal. On the road above I saw lights and a car came to a stop near the torn guardrail. Voices floated down to me and I realized in horror that it was my parents.
My father began to move down the embankment towards the wreck. He began to move even faster when he realized that it was his car. I heard him chanting over and over again 'Please not my baby'. Slowly I backed away from the car and watching him, feeling horrible. I had destroyed the car he loved.
He fell to his knees beside the cab and made a terrible howl of anguish. I moved towards him and started to apologize. The words flowed quickly from my mouth but he didn't seem to hear. I stepped up to his side and reached towards his shoulder when something in the heap of misshapen metal caught my eyes. A delicate hand was pinned between a crush of metal.
It laid very still, not a drop of blood on its lily white skin. I began to recoil in horror when I recognized a ring on its finger. It was the diamond ring my father had given me on my sixteenth birthday. Backing away I kept shaking my head in disbelief, it couldn't be. I was standing right there. There was no way I could be trapped in the wreckage.
Sirens filled the night and overpowered my father's anguished screams. I watched in disbelief as people flooded the scene, my father was taken away from what was left of his car by a police man. Rescue workers pried apart the wreaked car and withdrew me from it. I stared at my own body and slowly began to accept what had happened. Very little marked my own body to tell what had happened.
They placed me in a black body bag and began to carry my body up the embankment; my mother's screams filled the new silence. I followed them up and found my parents clinging to each other, eyes red as the tears poured down their face. Moving up beside them I tried to touch them, to feel them one last time. My hand passed right through them with no resistance.
I snatched my hand back and whispered softly. "I'm sorry."