forgotten autumn nights

He was too drunk to see more than a couple feet in front of him. The car's dashboard flickered before him, a mess of blinking lights and blurry numbers. The boy cursed. Grabbing a cold beer from the six-pack on the seat besides him, he opened it clumsily with one hand and gripped the steering wheel with the other.

The alcohol was refreshing, and within moments he felt adrenaline pumping through his veins again. Sticking his head out the window, he hollered something obscene and stuck out his middle finger, a smirk running across his lips. The boy lifted the beer up to his lips again and the liquid sloshed onto his shirt. He barely noticed.

Was that a red light? The boy blinked and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes. He couldn't tell. Then again, did it matter? He laughed and pressed down on the gas pedal. Hell no.

The world was shifting now. Street signs and cars spun around him, like some crazy merry-go-round. His head hurt like a bitch.

There were less cars now. The street was a small one, with lots of twists and turns and very few lights. The boy frowned. The houses didn't look familiar. Swerving violently, he turned back in the opposite direction, hoping to catch a glimpse of a street sign. A familiar nauseating feeling filled his chest, and all of a sudden he was vomiting onto his shirt and dashboard and the brand new black leather.

He didn't see the figure crossing the street.

There was a shriek and a jolt, but he noticed neither. All he knew was that his head felt like it was going to split open, and if things didn't stop swirling around him, he was going to throw up again. Zooming down the street, he didn't look back at the body lying across the street, or the 13-year-old girl screaming in horror.

Two hours later Noah Wilkes died in an emergency room, the victim of a hit and run accident. The drunk driver was unknown.